


I Need A Bad Idea

by Skyson



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Episode Related, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 330,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: Giles finds Buffy after she’s run away into the city, and instead of a scolding and dragging her back home, he supports her. They spend a few days together, reaffirming their bond and their friendship, forging a new and more mature respect between them.In the months to follow, that has a ripple effect on how they handle the coming events in their lives.---A "shippy-goggles" view of the mid-to-late seasons of Buffy. Rated for later chapters.
Relationships: Rupert Giles/Buffy Summers
Comments: 314
Kudos: 181





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muldersgurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muldersgurl/gifts).



This has turned into a huge fic, so I’ve decided to include a preface. You can skip ahead to the next chapter, if you want to just get right into the story!  
  


The title and general inspiration for the story is from the song "Bad Idea" from the Waitress musical (Sara Bareilles and Jason Mraz). It sounded pretty Buffy/Giles, to me, if Buffy and Giles began a closer relationship a little earlier on than how I usually headcanon it. Nothing illegal happening in here, just a different take on Season 03, had Buffy and Giles come up with "a pretty good bad idea" during the time of the Cruciamentum.  
  


The story begins with snippets of amended episodes from the start of season 03, “Anne”, while Buffy was in L.A. During this time, Giles finds Buffy, and that has a ripple effect on the rest of their future.  
  


I always wanted to revisit both the Cruciamentum (“Helpless”) and Buffy’s brief experience with telepathy (“Earshot”), and decided to include them into this fic. During the past many months of this process, I ended up revisiting more episodes than just those (“Band Candy” - irresistible, haha - and “Consequences”, for example). I also reference many more moments and plots from Seasons 03 and 04, fiddling with them a bit to fit into my story… and that was when this somewhat-accidentally turned into a B/G view of the entire season. The story goes into Season 05 as well, though not quite as in-depth, to show progression and give a hint for how the rest of the series may have gone for them.  
  


Okay, to be honest, I forced myself to stop within Season 05 because I'd already been working on this one for about four months now. I easily could've continued on - this was _so much fun_ to write and "research" (binge-watch Buffy episodes? What? The _stress_ .) - but to write more would be too much. Sometimes I wonder if I already did too much! There are other stories to be written, however, and I must let this one go... and I thought (with a friendly nudge from my beta and pal) what better time to share this massive thing with the world than when we're all stuck inside and in desperate need of some reading.  
  


For the chapters that are more directly episode related, I’ve referenced the specific episode in question. If you see lines recognizable from the script, I’m not claiming credit for those bits. Just for how I’ve twisted them to my pleasure (or rather, Buffy’s and Giles’ pleasure). This is intended to be a B/G view of canon following the Cruciamentum, so there will be large chunks from episodes included.  
  


This one is for giles1522 (Muldersgurl), for being my sounding board, encourager, idea-giver when I was stumped, and above all: connoisseur of the most inspiring photos and gifs of Giles. And for the rest of the Buffy/Giles group as well, who’ve been astoundingly welcoming and encouraging.  
  


For scene separations: Dash lines [ **— — —** ] designate a large time jump. Ellipses [ **... ... ...** ] designate a small time jump. The chapters themselves will be varying in length.  
  


Some of my playlist while working on this one: _Bad Idea_ \- Sara Bareilles and Jason Mraz, _Blue Mind_ , _All My Days_ , _Through The Dark_ , _Wait_ , _At Your Door_ , and _Crinan Wood_ \- Alexi Murdoch, _Make You Mine_ \- Public, _Always_ \- Gavin James and Philippine  
  


The following chapter will begin Chapter 01 (Anne). I hope this fic is met well with you, and provides a bit of a reprieve from the chaos of the current world.  
  


Skyson


	2. Chapter 01 (Anne)

A hundred years in one day? No thanks.

"I swear, if I find," Buffy growled as she tossed the demon guard over her shoulder and then kicked him in the head, "even one," it took another kick to knock him out, "grey hair, I'm gonna be pissed."

"This isn't you pissed?" Lily wondered, hanging back in the far corner of the cell, watching with wide eyes.

"Oh, I'm just getting started," Buffy promised, but when she turned to head down the hall, the pain in her head flared up and she stumbled. "Oh God. Concussion." She grimaced and held her hand to her head.

"Buffy!" Lily's warning wasn't enough, and three more demons surrounded her and had her back in the cell quickly, this time chained to the floor.

"Well, shoot." Buffy sighed, and then promptly passed out.

**... ... ...**

She had no idea how much time had passed when she came to, but she found herself being thrown to her knees in a completely different room, surrounded by a few other street kids and a handful of demons as well.

As she slowly got to her feet and was forced into a line-up, she noted that she definitely felt stronger and more clear-headed than before.

Good, and bad. She needed to get out of here, as soon as possible. One of the guys to her right already looked older enough than the rest of them that she was sure he'd been down here for too long.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Buffy. The Vampire Slayer. And you are?" Ah, it felt so good to be quippy again.

It felt good to kick some demon ass, too. Maybe she should have done this months ago, instead of wallowing in her tiny apartment by herself.

Well, no, the wallowing had been necessary too.

"Anyone who's not having fun here, follow me." The time for wallowing was over. She still had a job to do.

She couldn't deny the rush she felt as adrenaline coursed through her veins, her senses sharpening as she ducked and weaved through the factory, like her Slayer instincts were waking up from hibernation. She almost laughed as she reached the support beam and leapt up to grab it high, swinging around to kick her pursuer in the face.

She hadn't lost herself, after all.

Fighting her way out of the factory took longer than she'd anticipated, however. There were way more guards than she'd thought. The more she fought them off, the easier it became to take them down, but more and more kept coming.

She never imagined she'd say it, but thank God for Lily.

"Hey Ken. Wanna see my impression of Ghandi?" Buffy swung the club up and around, bringing it down hard on the trapped demon's head.

"...Ghandi?" Lily wondered from behind her, half-terrified and half-amazed.

"Well, you know." Buffy puffed out a breath, shifting her hair out of her face. "When he was really pissed off." She grimaced as they stumbled together back toward the room with the portal thing. "You first," She suggested to Lily, clasping her fingers together and making a step for Lily to put her foot on. "I'm gonna need a hand up."

Forget a week - she felt like she was gonna be sore for a month.

The others were reaching their arms down through the portal, waiting, and once Lily gripped onto them they were able to take more of her weight off of Buffy.

"God, I'm already sore," Buffy grumbled, taking two tries before leaping high enough to grab the awaiting hand. As she rolled onto the floor away from the portal, she took a moment to catch her breath.

"What do we do about the..." Lily trailed off, and Buffy turned her head to watch as the dark liquid transformed back into the same grungy tile as the rest of the little pool. They both stared in silence for a minute.

"Let's get out of here." Buffy announced, pushing herself up to her feet.

**... ... ...**

Sharing the one-room apartment was awkward, the first day, but the bed was big enough for the both of them and Lily was actually pretty quiet for a while. She was probably nervous about the waitressing gig, but she dutifully got dressed and headed out for her shift in the morning.

Buffy lay sprawled out on the bed, groaning toward the ceiling.

"I really should have kept up with the Tai Chi, at least." She complained. Even breathing too deeply hurt.

She suddenly sat up quickly, although the action immediately made her grimace.

"Oh, God," She scrambled off the bed and into the dresser beside it, leaning on it as she peered into the mirror that hung on the wall above it. Turning her head left and then right, she looked closely at every inch of her face. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed, touching her fingers against the smile lines on her cheeks, and then around her eyes.

Those lines had always been there, but she was sure they were deeper now. The skin around her eyes seemed more taut. Were those _crow's feet_ hinting at the corners???

"Not real." She insisted toward her reflection, forcing her expression to relax. "I wasn't down there _that_ long. Sure, maybe, there's a couple years added, but not _that_ many... right? How do I _know_? Ugh, curse this baby face!" She fretted, tugging at her cheeks a little, convinced that some of the ol’ baby fat was no longer present. 

She straightened as she considered what she'd just said, and then relaxed.

"I do still look mostly the same. Maybe no one will notice." She smiled tentatively at herself, and then winced. When she made bigger expressions, the lines were _definitely_ a little more prominent than they had been yesterday. "Work in my favor, baby face..." She mumbled, and then with a sigh, headed to the kitchen to make some tea.

It wasn't great tea, but buying a box of tea bags and microwaving water was cheaper than the coffee machines she'd been looking at. It was either that, or grab her requisite caffeine fix from the diner - which she wasn't going to do. Now that she no longer worked there, she had no desire to be near the place again. Besides that, Lily needed to get comfortable with being Anne, now, and that wouldn't happen if Buffy kept hanging around.

She would only be staying until the end of the week, to make sure those demons don't make a reappearance.

As Buffy eased into one of her two kitchen chairs at the tiny table by the window, she groaned softly again, cradling her warm mug against her chest.

There was no way she could do any fighting today, in any case. After she finished her tea, she'd try a little stretching, and hopefully work out some of her aches.

"Getting old sucks." She grumbled toward her stuffed duck companion, which rested on the side of the table.

A knock sounded against the door, and Buffy stared at it, frowning. Her entire time here, no one has ever knocked on that door.

"Lil- Anne?" Buffy called out, quietly setting her mug down and slowly getting to her feet. "Is that you? Did you forget something?"

She grabbed Mr. Pointy before approaching the door.

"Um, no. I'm- I'm searching for- ...for Anne." The voice sounded disappointed, a little muffled behind the closed door, but Buffy still recognized him.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she held her breath, not moving. She wasn't necessarily surprised that Giles had found her - she'd honestly expected him to, at some point, and earlier than this too - but to actually hear his voice again was a shock.

"Um... hello? May I- this is Anne's apartment, yes?"

"Yes." Buffy answered softly, unlocking and opening the door as she lowered Mr. Pointy to her side.

"Oh," Giles blinked, his polite and mildly sheepish smile falling away as he looked at her. "B-... Buffy." He sighed her name, relieved and amazed all at once, his gaze roving over her.

She didn't mind that so much, because she was busy looking at him, too. All that tweed, he was just the same - well, the glasses were different. And maybe he'd gained a little weight too, but she couldn't fault him for that, probably having to keep less active as he recovered from being tortured half to death. And, of course, with no Slayer to train...

"M- may I?" He requested softly, and she nodded quickly and shifted to the side without a word.

He stepped inside, hovering awkwardly in the floor space between her mattress and the entry to what sold itself as the kitchen. Buffy closed and locked the door, then leaned her back against it, ducking her head just a little as she waited for him to admonish her.

"How... how are you?" He wondered carefully, and she lifted her head. "Are you- " He went to clarify, but hesitated, and then tilted his head to the side a bit. "You seem..." He clearly wasn't sure what to say.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" She returned softly, her eyes drifting over his face again, then down to his left hand, which hung relaxed by his side. From what she could tell there wasn't a mark on it, which relieved her. She'd hate for him to have lasting reminders for what he'd been put through.

"After a couple long months of physical therapy, I'm good as new." Giles assured her, lifting his hand and squeezing a fist to prove it to her. His expression was relaxed, and not accusatory in the slightest. In fact, he didn't even seem to be all that deeply concerned, or pitying, either.

He was just pleased to see her.

Buffy gazed into his eyes, not sure what to say. Her immediate feelings were those of defensiveness; Giles was here to drag her back, and- but that was ridiculous, because Buffy was already planning to go back. Just not today.

And he didn’t seem all that anxious, anyway. Maybe he was just here to… to what?

"How's Mom doing?" Buffy asked quietly, knowing that Giles would have been keeping an eye on her, for Buffy's sake.

"She's well. She misses you, but she's... the gallery seems to be going well and I think- I think she's formed some kind of book club." He seemed perplexed by that, and Buffy was surprised as well.

"Huh." She mused. "Well. At least she's made some friends, finally. Give her something else to focus on other than me." They were silent for a moment. "Is she... still mad?"

"Oh, no, Buffy." Giles assured her. "She's not mad, not... well, not at you, at any rate." He tugged his glasses off, then, and Buffy raised her eyebrow at him.

"She's mad at you? Why?"

"Well... I represent everything about your life that she doesn't understand. Things that you were hiding from her, yet I was a part of."

"Well of course you're a part of it," Buffy frowned, "you're my Watcher." He looked pleased with her saying that, but he shook his head.

"It's still something she doesn't quite understand. She believes I... that I've taken you away from her." He admitted.

"She's the one who told me not to come back!" Buffy exclaimed, and Giles made a soothing noise before giving her a look, and she settled back against the door again, though she folded her arms across her chest.

"She's your mother, Buffy. And I'm a man who knows things about you that she doesn't. She has a right not to like me, for that."

"I still say she's wrong." Buffy pouted. "You're totally likeable. You should get the yearbook award for most likeable guy."

"I don't think they hand those awards out to the faculty," He replied with a wry smile, and she smiled a little in return.

It felt good to joke around with him. It'd been too long. Buffy relaxed further in his presence, and gestured toward the table behind him. His care for her was easy, familiar, and comforting without being stifling. He didn't deserve the unnecessary walls she was trying to put up.

They sat together at the little table and she fingered the handle of her mug.

"Guess I don't have to worry about that, anyway," Buffy sighed, looking despondently out the window at the cars that drove by. "Snyder is never gonna let me step foot inside Sunnydale High again."

"You don't know that," Giles argued encouragingly. "Perhaps your mother could say something to him, on your behalf."

"I still need to make sure my mother isn't gonna lock me up in the basement so I can't ever leave again," Buffy pointed out, quirking her eyebrow at him. He ducked his head, looking sheepish for his hopeful attitude, but Buffy actually found herself more appreciative of it than annoyed by it. She figured that was a sign that she really was ready now to return. She glanced down to her mug, then gave him an apologetic look, "I'd, um, offer you tea, but you won't like it."

"That's alright." His lips almost quirked into a smile. "I hope living here hasn't been... too hard on you?" Giles was giving her that peculiar look again. "You seem..."

"Older?" Buffy said wryly, and he lifted his eyebrows but then nodded.

"Well, yes, I suppose. In a way. More mature, if I may say."

"I am." Buffy replied with a snorting sound that wasn’t quite amusement. Of course Giles would notice. She drank more of her tea before it got cold.

"It's certainly been a long summer,"

"No, Giles - I mean I'm older." She looked him in the eye and he paused, unsure what to say in response. "I ran into this weird demon cult thing, or workhouse, or whatever. It was a huge underground factory, and they used people - wayward teenagers, mostly - as labor." Buffy explained, and Giles leaned forward as he unconsciously shifted into Watcher mode.

"My Lord." He mused. "Could you describe the demons?"

"Sure, but, how many steal people's youth?" Buffy raised her eyebrow, and Giles blinked in surprise.

"Steal their youth...?" He repeated, and Buffy nodded.

"Not being metaphorical here. They take like, your life force. Your years. And when you're too old to keep working they chuck you back out onto the streets an old man. Or old woman."

"And... they did this to you?" He looked alarmed, but Buffy didn't see what for at this point. It wasn't like she suddenly looked sixty. He was peering at her again, and she knew he was trying to look for more sure signs of differences. She imagined he'd noticed a few already, and hadn't been quite able to explain them between his eyes and his brain until now.

"Yeah. Their leader guy said something about one day in that place being like a hundred years, so, I didn't want to hang around, you know? I got out of there as quickly as I could."

"I see," Giles nodded, looking relieved now, she supposed for having a reasonable explanation for the slightly older appearance in her face. Leave it to Giles to notice the subtle things. "So you're... older. How long do you think you were in this factory, Buffy? Perhaps we could calculate the time, and figure out- "

"I really wish I could have an answer to that question," Buffy shook her head ruefully, "but I don't know, Giles. I got knocked out for a bit. Obviously, it couldn't have been really long," She gestured toward herself in point, "but damn, I could be old enough to drink legally now!"

"You can't change the date you were born on your license, Buffy." Giles reminded her gently, and she huffed at him.

"Ruin my fun. I'm trying to see the positives, here!" She folded her arms across her chest, and then winced.

"Were you injured?" Giles worried, noticing. "You said they knocked you out,"

"Yeah, that one's all healed up though," Buffy assured him, shifting her hair back off of her forehead to show him the unmarred skin. "I'm just... achey in places I haven't been achey in _years_. And I don't know if that's because I haven't been stretching consistently, or because I'm suddenly a couple of years older than I was two days ago."

Giles laughed lightly at that.

"Yes, well, getting older does have its inconveniences." He lamented with her, and she startled out a laugh as well. Giles looked surprised by the sound, and then pleased.

"Bonding with my Watcher about getting old. Who knew?" Buffy joked, and his expression grew warm.

"I've missed that." He admitted in a murmur, and she let her amusement taper off naturally, tilting her head at him a little in question. "Your laugh," He clarified even more quietly, removing his glasses and looking down at them as he fiddled with the frames. "Being called your Watcher."

"The others...?"

"It isn't the same." He glanced up into her eyes, and she was struck by the shy emotion she saw there.

Buffy was tempted to reach out and touch her fingers against his knuckles, but she didn't.

"I can't leave the city yet, Giles." She informed him seriously, but gently. He hadn't made any gesture of asking her to, yet, but she knew it was coming. "I need to make sure these demons don't make a reappearance."

"Do you think you could have been in another dimension?" Giles suddenly wondered, putting his glasses back on, 'research face' alive and strong. "That would account for the time differences. From the way you've phrased it, it sounds like they don't necessarily feed off of these kids themselves, but they are simply using them as, as manual labor, you said. Not all dimensions see time the same as ours."

"Maybe." Buffy shrugged. "Would explain the weird portal."

"There... is a portal?" Giles gave her a look, like maybe she should have led with that. She gave him a look, like maybe he should not get so excited about creepy evil demons.

"There _was_. It sort of closed up."

"There might be a lingering signature of it- would you mind? Taking me there?" Giles requested, and Buffy sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I just need to," She winced as she stood up. "Get dressed." She was still in her p.j.s, and honestly, she was not looking forward to all the movement that changing her clothes would require.

"It doesn't have to be right now," Giles offered belatedly, and she could feel his concerned gaze on her back.

"There might not be anything left behind, if we wait too long," Buffy pointed out, opening a drawer to retrieve her jeans and clean undies, then another drawer for a shirt. Glancing toward the jean jacket that hung on the back of her chair, she figured it was in good enough shape she could wear it out and about and not get weird looks.

Out of habit she squatted down to get a pair of socks out of a lower drawer, and the action made her groan heavily.

"Damn," She hissed under her breath, and Giles cleared his throat awkwardly from the other side of the room.

"May I, er, help?"

"Help me get dressed?" Buffy half-turned toward him in surprise, without getting up yet.

"Warm up." He raised his eyebrow wryly at her. "Loosen those muscles up."

"There's not a whole lot of room in here for training," Buffy used her mattress to hoist herself up enough that she could sit on it, then she flopped her pile of clothes onto the blanket beside her.

"Some basic Tai Chi. Slow movements and deep stretches." He grew more confident in his plan and got to his feet, toeing his shoes off and pushing them out of the way beneath the chair he'd been sitting on. "Come on."

And as they stood next to each other in the one open space she had in her apartment, it was almost like nothing had changed. With her eyes closed, she could have been in the library again; focused only on his guiding words and correcting hands.

Although Buffy was no longer mourning Angel quite as hard as she had been before, it was only now that she began to feel a real sense of peace again.

**— — —**

Giles rented a room in a motel nearby, and came by her apartment again the following morning after Lily-now-Anne had left for work. He brought with him a map of the city, his journal, his own tea that he'd apparently always traveled with - which made Buffy laugh for a good minute - and a few groceries to cook them breakfast.

Buffy bristled at that, at first, but he gave her his stern Watcher face and lectured her about proper nutrition and,

"Now that you're older, you need to pay attention to what your body is telling you. You need to take care of it; metabolisms and such change with age, Buffy."

"I'm still _The Slayer_ ," She huffed back, "my metabolism has never been a problem!" Then, she'd glared at him. "And I'm not that old!"

He'd looked at her for a moment, and then giggled, and Buffy had pursed her lips at him before breaking into giggles as well.

"Ah, how the tables have turned," He mused brightly, turning back toward her one skillet and giving the scrambled eggs a little stir.

"You're enjoying this far too much." Buffy pouted, beginning her Tai Chi routine. She already felt far better today than she had yesterday; the lingering soreness more of a proud 'I kicked ass the other day!' and less 'I hate my life'.

She watched his back as she stretched, considering. Less than a full twenty-four hours together, and they were back to old habits. It was as if the horror of the last year had never happened, as if their lives hadn’t been irrevocably changed by murder and mayhem. Actually, it was beyond that - he was still doing the Watcher thing, but he wasn’t treating her like the wayward child that needed to come home. He was just being… a friend. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having a friend around, until now.

Weird that it was Giles, though. Weird, and not weird, at the same time.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence during which he finished preparing their breakfast, Buffy followed him to the table and smiled at the familiar smell of his English tea.

"Is that the electric kettle from the library?" She wondered, glancing back toward the kitchen counter, and Giles raised his eyebrow at her as he stirred milk into his mug.

"It's not as if I've stolen it. It's _my_ kettle. I'm sure Xander won't miss it," He snarked, rolling his eyes, and Buffy grinned a little.

"Willow might," She pointed out. They quietly ate for a bit, until Buffy couldn't help but ask, "Does it really go downhill that quickly? The human body, I mean. A couple of years could make that big of a difference?"

"Well, if your body _is_ in its twenties, I would say you're probably at the prime of your life," Giles replied. "Things don't truly start 'downhill' until later. It might take a more consistent effort to eat healthy and exercise regularly, but honestly you should feel stronger now than ever."

"I do, in a way," Buffy nodded, swallowing her bite of eggs. "I wasn't sure if that was because I finally let myself get in the zone, again. I haven't... I haven't been patrolling much. Only when the tinglies get too annoying."

"The... tinglies?" Giles gave her an almost exasperated look.

"My spidey sense." Buffy shrugged. "The vampire honing."

He let her other Buffy-ism go without comment, and eventually said,

"If you expect me to reprimand you for not patrolling, Buffy, I won't." She met his gaze with some surprise, and he set his fork down. "You needed a break. Space, and time, that wouldn't have been available for you had you stayed in Sunnydale. I understand that. I'm not angry with you."

That touched her, deeply, but she was still aware of what he hadn't been saying.

"You haven't really mentioned the others, much." She murmured, dropping her eyes and poking her fork at what remained of her breakfast.

"They miss you," Giles said, the 'but' clear in his voice before he even said it, "but they don't understand. I don't think this bears saying to you, but teenagers are inherently selfish creatures."

"Right." Buffy replied dryly, but she knew he was right. Standing on the outside, being 'Anne', she'd been able to look back on the last two years with a more critical eye.

It wasn't really something done with malicious intent, but she'd been the center of her own world - especially before Merrick found her. And even with all the Slaying stuff, the gang still all got caught up in the usual teenaged angst - homework, tests, dates to the dance...

Killing Angelus to save the world had been difficult enough, at first. To have to kill Angel? The first person she ever loved so deeply? And when he had no idea what was going on? That was some heavy stuff. Maybe too heavy for the rest of the Scoobies. But at least Giles understood.

"They've been patrolling," Giles offered, a hint of surprised pride in his voice, and Buffy raised her eyebrows at him as she refocused. "Not... incredibly efficiently, but they seem to be improving. Working together as a team."

"They shouldn't be- that's dangerous," Buffy protested.

"They want you to be proud of them, I think," Giles offered more gently. "There is anger and hurt in them but they still love you, Buffy. They'll get over everything else."

"If they don't get themselves _killed_ , first," Buffy muttered, finishing up the rest of her breakfast. Her emotions were all over the place when it came to the Scoobies, so she put her thoughts about them to the side, and focused on Giles again.

Giles was uncomplicated.

Which was kind of funny, if she thought about it. This adult guy from a whole other part of the world and an entire past she knew next-to-nothing about somehow made more sense to her than her best friends her own age.

Well, more or less her own age, now.

"As soon as you're finished, I'd like to see if we can't map out the size of this other-dimensional factory you were in. I can't imagine there would only be one portal in and out," Giles suggested, tapping his finger against the folded map tucked to the side out of the way.

"There's no way _you're_ going in there; a half an hour and you'll be ancient." Buffy sassed, and Giles pursed his lips. She smiled widely, innocently perky. "Like a Lazy Susan, this table just keeps on turning right back around,"

"Har, har," Giles rolled his eyes. "And you'll be doing the washing up."

"Aw, man," Buffy whined.

**... ... ...**

Considering she'd been half-concussed and often unconscious while in the demon dimension -

"Now you know what it's like," Giles had teased her,

\- mapping out the factory hadn't been very concise. But the two of them spent the next couple of days together, walking the streets, starting at the now-abandoned Family Home building and mirroring what Buffy could remember of her movements down below.

They found a few more lingering remnants of portals since closed, but none of them were active, so Buffy was appeased that at the very least this was one demon population the city would no longer have to worry about.

When they weren't working on the map, they went to one of the small coffee shops in a slightly nicer part of town. They sat and chatted about their summers, in comfortable anonymity, and Buffy felt less and less like she was with 'librarian Giles' and more like she was just with... Giles. The guy. A friend.

Of course she'd already figured out Giles was a _person_ , beneath all that tweed, but now she was getting to know that person a little more. And she realized she was pretty fond of guy-friend-Giles, even if she did still think he was too nerdy about the demons. But that was what made him great at being a Watcher, she supposed. He was the brains and she the brawn. They were a good team.

During their talks, she expected him to bring up Acathla, and Angelus, but he never did. She was grateful for that, but she knew his silence on the subject wouldn't last forever. She was just happy he wasn't forcing her to talk about stuff that was still too painful to put words to. Anyway, she wasn’t entirely sure if _he_ wanted to talk about it, either. She might’ve had to kill the demon wearing the face she’d fallen in love with, but she hadn’t endured the physical torture that Giles had… And having to walk into his own apartment and discover… all that - well, she wasn’t itching to bring up Angelus with him anytime soon.

But at least she was punning, again. And Giles made her laugh more these last few days than she had all summer. Heck, he made her laugh more than he did in the last couple of years they've known one another, and he laughed along with her. He almost seemed like a different person, and she felt like a different person too, but it was in a good way.

Today over their coffee, they talked a lot about what life could look like if they weren't in the business of saving the world. Giles daydreamed about owning his own what he called a 'corner shop', somewhere in a small town outside of London, expanding on his previously-mentioned childhood dream of being a grocer. His hypothetical life had more detail than hers, since he's had a longer time to think about it, but Buffy told him about how much she loved figure-skating, and gymnastics, and had been considering joining competitions right before her destiny had shown up and kicked her in the face.

"I imagine you would be a lovely skater," Giles told her, his gaze admiring in a warm kind of way, "Particularly, you know, with your enhanced Slayer abilities."

"I've only been on the ice once, since I was fifteen," Buffy admitted, and he nodded as he remembered the incident with the bounty hunter.

"I suppose that wasn't such a pleasant experience."

"It was at first," She reasoned. "But..." As always, her memories of Angel were marred with the shadow of Angelus. Especially those memories where Angel's brooding, and aloofness, were admittedly more prominent now that she looked back on it.

They hadn't exactly _ever_ been good at the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, had they? She'd insisted at the time that she didn't want or need the conventional dating stuff with him, but she knew now that wouldn't have lasted true. Her dreams of late proved that to her; Angel, always in the sunlight, always around and doing things he realistically never would have been able to do as a vampire.

"Buffy?" Giles wondered softly, drawing her back into the present. His brow was furrowed slightly, but she could tell he was trying not to act too concerned; he knew that she wasn’t comfortable with that.

"What if I never see myself ever be anything more than what I've already become?" Buffy murmured, thinking of how easily being The Slayer had come back to her; hunting down Lily’s boyfriend and fighting those demons. How rather - although not rolling in money and lavish comfort - she'd been able to take care of herself here, in the city, entirely on her own. High school drop-out, waitress, Slayer? It was frightening how easily she could picture that for herself as the rest of her life - however long that life would be.

Giles took a moment to answer her question, respectfully giving it some serious thought.

"If anyone can be more than just The Slayer, it's you, Buffy." He looked her in the eyes, speaking sincerely. "I didn't come here because I thought you needed my help. I... I searched for you because- because I missed you, but I wasn't _worried_ for you. Does that make sense?"

And wouldn't you know it, his words actually made her feel a bit better. Still, she couldn't help but tease his rare emotional vulnerability,

"Aww, you missed me?"

"Oh, shut it." He huffed in embarrassment, hiding behind his mug for a moment. She smiled at him and he swallowed his drink before adding, "While I do believe you should have the opportunity to graduate high school, Buffy, a formal education isn't everything." She raised her eyebrows in amazement and opened her mouth to respond in disbelief, but he gave her a look and quickly continued, "You have skills, talents, intuition. Your ability to adapt is..." He shook his head slightly, impressed. "Above par. Quite above. You're only seventeen, Buffy,"

She quirked an eyebrow at him at that.

"In the eyes of the state, you are only seventeen, Buffy," Giles amended dryly. "Most teens start out with crummy, low-paying jobs. It doesn't mean you have to stay there for the rest of your life."

"What if the rest of my life is only five more years?" Buffy pointed out, and Giles glowered a little.

"Not if I have any say in the matter." He grumbled, his gaze sharp. "And I do. When you return to Sunnydale, we will begin serious training. Weapons, hand-to-hand, and honing."

"Well, it's not like I'll have homework to get in the way." Buffy shrugged, and his eyes softened though he looked wryly amused.

"When have you ever let homework get in the way of anything, before?"

**— — —**

"You should head back," Buffy told him on Saturday. "School starts Monday, right? Don't you need to be there?"

"Yes." Giles sighed, clearly not wanting to be.

"It's alright," Buffy softly encouraged him, "I'll be back in a couple days. I was planning on returning before you even found me," She reminded him, "that hasn't changed."

"It's not that I don't think you will," Giles assured her. "I just rather... don't want us to go back to before. You and I, I mean." His honesty surprised her, and she reached forward to rest her fingers over his knuckles.

"I don't think that's possible." She promised him with a small smile, and he seemed to relax at that, and smiled a little back. "Giles, I- I haven't said before, but I'm sorry for not calling."

"You needn't- "

"I know, you said you understand why I needed out of Sunnydale for a bit. I'm still sorry. I could have at least let you know I was alive, but I was worried that as soon as I heard your voice, I'd... the guilt would bring me back. But the guilt was way too heavy, you know? I don't think... things wouldn’t have gone well, if I'd tried to work all this out with you guys around."

He dipped his head slightly, giving her an understanding look, but kept quiet.

"Those first few weeks I felt like I couldn't even _breathe_ , you know?" He nodded a little, and she knew that he did actually know, given the bits of his past that he's shared with her. Not only about Jenny, but what he'd had to do to his old friend Randall.

When Giles had told her about Randall, about needing to kill his friend to kill the demon that resided within him, Buffy had returned with the truth about what had happened in the mansion. That it was Angel she killed - confused, clueless Angel - not his demonic counterpart. Telling Giles ended up feeling a little easier than she’d expected it to, and it had lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders. And afterward, Giles had held her hand and gave her a look of empathy and didn’t try to make her feel better with platitudes. He’d understood, completely putting aside his own feelings about Angel, and Buffy loved him for that.

"I was expecting you to show up any day, suddenly, and order me back to Sunnydale…” Buffy continued, once more focusing back on their current conversation, “but months went by, and you didn't. And I eventually sort of relaxed, at least about that."

"It took me a while to find a real lead," Giles admitted, vaguely embarrassed, and Buffy gave him a half-smile, picturing that easily, knowing how obsessive he could get when it came to research of any kind.

"I'm glad you found me now, though," She told him. "Thanks for not immediately pushing me about… Acathla. Thanks for letting me... recover, I guess, at my own pace. But also for being here to sort of kick that into gear. Cause it was time."

"Sometimes, Buffy, you are astoundingly mature for your age." Giles tilted his head slightly at her, a deeply fond expression on his face, and he turned his hand to curl his fingers around hers.

"Let's not bring my age into this. That still gives me the wiggins." She gave a bit of a theatrical shiver, and he grinned with amusement. Suddenly serious, she sat up in her chair, the movement pulling her hand out of his. "I'm going to need to buy more make-up."

"And there's the teenager," Giles drawled, slowly sitting back in his chair.

"I mean," Buffy gestured at her face, half-panicked.

"Buffy, you don't _really_ look that much older,"

"You noticed!"

"Of course I noticed, I- " He paused briefly before finishing, "I'm your Watcher."

"Mom will notice." She insisted pointedly, and he sighed.

"Your mother will likely attribute any changes as imagined, considering you've spent almost four months on your own in this city. She'll think you're tired, perhaps a bit malnourished,"

"Well not that anymore," Buffy raised her eyebrows and patted her stomach, which Giles pursed his lips at in a silent chuckle. "Speaking of - I'm seriously gonna miss Chef Giles. What do I gotta do for some of that action in Sunnydale?"

He blurted out a vocal snort at that, and then actually blushed a little before looking away from her for a moment.

"Perhaps some evenings I'll make dinner, before patrol?" He offered after consideration. "Or a late breakfast on the weekends we research - we can't keep living on doughnuts alone."

"We don't," Buffy noted helpfully, "sometimes there's also pizza." Giles blinked at her, and she smiled and leaned toward him conspiratorially. "I'll help you cross-reference if that means you make me that yummy asparagus again."

Giles laughed, that loose and wide smile on his face that she had gotten to see more of here, and she let her smile widen in response.

Even breathing was starting to feel alright.


	3. Chapter 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one features bits and pieces through the next four episodes.

"You’re going out?" Joyce wondered lightly.

"Oh." Buffy looked down at the jacket balled in her hands. "Um, well, if it- it's okay." She looked back up and hoped her smile was casual. She was thinking of Giles, his soft gaze, his warm fondness. "I, um... I'd like to find Willow and Xander." She felt a little guilty; she'd been home for all of four hours and hadn't even called her best friends yet, and here she was wanting to see Giles again.

"Will you be slaying?" Her mom asked, still trying for that weirdly pleasant tone of voice, which only managed to make Buffy feel more uncomfortable. Joyce was trying though, and Buffy would do her best as well.

"Only if they give me lip," She quipped. 

Once she managed to get out of that awkward conversation - (with legitimate approval from her mom to go out! What a world.) - Buffy strolled leisurely down the streets, reacquainting herself with Sunnydale. And as much as she craved to see Giles again, she did want to see the others too. She'd missed them, now that she was allowing herself to feel that, and she knew that she would be seeing Giles again soon enough, anyway.

Her feelings for him were wigging her out, anyway. She needed some time to figure out that weirdness.

Time that wouldn't happen tonight, apparently.

"Hey, guys." She breathed out, settling after her little scuffle with the vampire, eyeing the gang all splayed out on the ground where it had thrown them into one another like a Three Stooges skit. "What's with the kid-commando gear?"

"Buffy!" Willow scrambled to her feet, dropping her stake and clutching Buffy in her arms in a bone-breaking hug.

"Ow," Buffy winced, tilting her hips away slightly as something in the tool bag slung around Willow's waist poked at her thigh. She laughed softly, though, and returned her friend's hug in relief.

The others straightened themselves out and joined in on the huggage as well, the moment one of somber relief before soon enough they were all asking Buffy a hundred questions at once.

"Oh, Giles!" Willow suddenly cried out as Xander and Cordelia got into an argument about the proper use of bait. "We have to go see him! Oh Buffy, he'll be so happy - he's been searching for you all summer!"

Buffy thought of him sitting across from her at that tiny table in that tiny apartment, and how he oddly had seemed right at home there. How he had looked at her with that soft smile on his face, not saying a word, not demanding any answers or making any accusations. Just... happy to be with her.

How it had felt like home, with him there.

"We definitely have to," Xander nodded in serious agreement, successfully distracted from the weird mating dance he and Cordelia had going on. "G-Man has been like a dog with a bone."

"G-Man?" Buffy repeated, frowning. She glanced warily at the walkie-talkie hooked onto Oz's vest. "Giles has a codename, too?"

"Not really," Xander admitted, "he hates it when I call him that."

"We can take my van, get there faster," Oz offered, and before Buffy could think of a reasonable excuse, they were ushering her into the big passenger van and headed off down the street.

"You know what, m-maybe it's too late, maybe we should just come back tomorrow," Buffy reasoned as they gathered outside of Giles' door. The other's were practically pinning her in, though. She was nervous about seeing him right now with everyone else standing around. "What if... he's mad?" She tried, ignoring when she noticed Cordelia roll her eyes.

"Mad? Just because you ran away and abandoned your post and your friends and your mom and made him lay awake every night worryin' about ya?" Xander snorted, but his sarcasm drifted away as he let out a breath. "Maybe we should wait out here," He suggested toward the others.

In L.A., Giles had never alluded to his own troubles over the summer. Buffy had figured he'd been fine in regards to hunting vampires or demons - he hadn't had a mark on him, and normally he only went out on patrol if it was by her side, anyway. But he  _ had _ looked exhausted, she'd noticed that. She hadn't wanted to assume it was because of her, though, even if he had admitted that he'd missed her and searched for her. She hadn't wanted to admit that the thought made her feel giddy as well as guilty.

Buffy gave Xander a look at his sarcasm, but then settled her shoulders and turned to knock on the door. She and Giles hadn't talked about whether or not to tell anyone that he'd actually found her, a week ago. Neither of them were sure how the Scoobies would take it. Buffy did feel unsettled about where she stood with him, however - even if the underlying reasons weren't what the Scoobies thought.

She could use that, she supposed. They didn't need to know the real why's right now.

Giles opened his door rather quickly, which made her wonder if he'd hoped to see her this evening.

His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the whole gang standing behind her, and Buffy quirked a quick apologetic grin at him.

"Check it out," Xander spoke up nervously when no one said anything for a few beats, "the Watcher's back on the clock, and just when you're thinking career change; maybe becoming a- a looker, or a, um, a see-er."

Giles tucked his glasses back over his nose, shifting his gaze back toward Buffy again, unwavering.

"Thank you, Xander." He drawled. His gaze softened on her, and he put his hand on the door to open it wider, "Welcome home, Buffy."

There was a quiet knowledge in his eyes, a warmth that made her smile in relief. Things  _ had _ changed between them in L.A., and that change had indeed followed them back home. She hoped, ultimately, that it ended up being for the better.

Even if it sort of wigged her out a little bit, too.

The mood only grew lighter as they all squished together on Giles' couch, even as the Scoobies finally turned the discussion of summer in her direction. Giles was already fiddling with his tea stuffs, and Xander was making her laugh, and Buffy felt more filled with love than she had in what seemed like a long time.

When Giles came back in with the tea and tray of goodies, Buffy noticed his eyes seemed a little red around the edges.

"Here we are then," He cleared his throat as he sat down in his chair, "cheer us up." He kept his head tilted down slightly, and Buffy respectfully kept quiet about the emotion she saw as they all scrambled for cookies and crackers. She wanted to touch his hand, but felt weird about doing it in front of the others.

"So were you, like, living in a box, or what?" Cordelia wondered from the chair at the other end of the coffee table, the only other person unable to fit themselves on the couch. Not that Giles would have, either way. (For a brief moment, Buffy grinned at the amusing image; Giles in the middle with all the Scoobies squished in on either side of him. He’d pretend to be annoyed but she’d bet he’d secretly love it.)

"It's a... long story." Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Cordelia probably would've considered that apartment equivalent to a box, but... Buffy hadn't hated it entirely. It had been a place that had been all hers. Small as it was, that had been nice.

"So, skip the heartwarming stuff about kindly old people and saving the farm, and get right to the dirt." Xander settled against the cushion beside her as he happily bit into a cookie.

Buffy tensed a little, an image of herself flashing in her mind's eye; grey-haired and wrinkly.

"Perhaps Buffy could use a little time to adjust, before we grill her on her summer activities." Giles suggested, glancing toward her carefully as he prepared his tea.

"What he said." Buffy seconded, gratefully. Xander's 'old people' comment had hit a little too close to home. Sure, she wasn't really that much older, but the fact that she used to be their same age and now she wasn't seemed to loom over her. She’s lived on her own, now, even if it was just for a few months. She’d successfully been able to take care of herself; get a job, pay her rent on time, buy groceries… She felt kind of bad thinking it, but she felt sort of beyond them, in this moment. Out of sync.

She glanced at Giles, relaxing. She didn’t feel out of sync with him, at least. He was probably right; it would just take a little time for everyone to readjust.

"Fair enough. In fact," Xander grinned, "You can leave the slaying to us while you settle in. We got you covered."

"I noticed," Buffy couldn't help but be amused, "you guys seem down with the slayage. All tricked out with your walkies and everything." She gave Giles a look, and he hid his own amusement behind his tea cup.

"Yeah, but the outfits suck." Cordelia complained. "This whole Rambo thing is so over. ...I'm thinking more sporty, like Hilfiger maybe."

"Still, we were gettin' good!" Willow said proudly. "We dusted nine out of ten."

"Six out of ten." Oz murmured correctly.

"Six out of ten!" Willow repeated, just as proudly.

"Whatever - we were kickin' a little undead booty." Xander added loftily.

"Well, thank you for the offer, but, I think I just wanna get back to my normal routine." She let her gaze drift back toward Giles, finding him watching her... intently. He smiled briefly, and she swallowed down whatever it was  _ that _ made her feel and focused back toward the others, "You know, school. Slaying. Kid stuff."

Kid stuff. Teenager stuff. She had to still be seventeen-year-old Buffy, regardless of how she might feel now. A part of her suddenly wished that she  _ had _ been in the other dimension just a little bit longer, just to look old enough to make people second-guess… just enough that maybe it would be okay if she ended up not going back to high school.

"In fact, I'm jonesing for a little brainless fun." She looked at Xander hopefully. "What are you doing tomorrow?" He blinked at her, and then grinned and leaned forward to grasp Cordelia's arm.

"Oh I would, but, um, I'm kind of tied up."

"Ugh, you wish." Cordelia rolled her eyes and pushed him off of her. Buffy made a face at him and his one-track mind, and looked at her friend on her other side.

"Will?"

"Hm... tomorrow I..." She winced.

"Oh, come on. Friends don't let friends browse alone." Buffy begged. If she had to ask Giles to hang out with her, next, she wasn't sure what she would do. L.A. was different, it had been neutral ground. They couldn’t just stroll the streets of Sunnydale together - not in the daylight. What was she going to do, cross-reference with him all day? They might be closer on an inexplicable level, but she still didn't like studying that much. Even  _ with _ the tempting prospect of yummy food as a trade-off.

"Okay," Willow gave in fairly easily, "I have some schoolwork, but I can change my plans."

"A-as for school, Buffy," Giles noted, "uh, you know you'll have to talk to Principal Snyder before- "

"On it," Buffy assured him. "Mom is making an appointment with His Ugliness. I know she can break him."

Giles couldn't help but smirk in amusement at that, and then quickly swallowed a mouthful of tea to hide it.

**... ... ...**

She had to admit, it wasn't a great feeling realizing that Willow had forgotten about her, even when Buffy did remind herself that Willow had her own life, and probably a lot of stuff going on with school and Oz. Honestly, if she thought about it, how often did they hang out anyway outside of school? School was their focal point, and now Buffy wasn't a part of it.

They needed to make a point of hanging out more, doing other stuff. Maybe more movie nights? Something other than slayage.

But she still had the rest of the day before patrol, either way. She felt a bit bereft, unsure of what to do with herself. At least in L.A., she'd been a stranger in a big city and could roam around without worrying about undue attention.

"Buffy?"

"Giles!" She looked up, amazed to find him standing on the sidewalk in front of the bench she’d commandeered in front of the Espresso Pump. "What are you doing here?"

"I, um..." He looked sheepish as he ducked his head and stepped closer to her. "I saw Willow and Oz leaving after classes and thought... she might've..."

"Forgotten about me." Buffy sighed, and Giles immediately sat down on the bench beside her.

"She loves you, Buffy," He assured her softly. "Just this morning I overheard how excited she was to meet you here this afternoon,"

"Just not excited enough to show up..." Buffy mumbled, and Giles took her hand in his, surprising her.

"It might take time, Buffy, but they'll get used to you being around again. They've missed you dearly, but they've... they've had to cope without you. The slaying, and, and, et cetera," He reminded her.

"Well, it's good to know that when I die, I won't have to worry about my friends being able to take care of themselves." Buffy figured cheerily, and he squeezed her hand tightly enough it actually sort of hurt.

"Don't do that, Buffy." He scolded her sharply, and she stared at him, startled. "Don't be so- so-  _ cavalier _ about your death."

"Sorry," She murmured, dropping her eyes, and he sighed and rubbed his thumb against her knuckles before letting her go.

"I know... I know I'm not your first choice in company, but perhaps I could join you?" He offered, tilting his head in the direction of the coffee shop’s main entrance.

"That's not true, Giles," Buffy immediately protested. "You know I like hanging out with you." She paused, remembering where they were. School was out for the day, now, and students would likely soon be roaming around. People who knew them only as a librarian and a student. She wondered, "Is it a good idea?" and Giles gave her an understanding quirk of his lips.

"Probably not." He replied easily, and got to his feet. "But I could do with a strong cuppa, and you could as well, and- a-as we're both here..."

Buffy smiled and stood as well, and they walked toward the main entry together.

"Wait, shouldn't you be at the library right now? For after-school studying or whatever?" She furrowed her brow as he gestured her ahead of him, growing especially curious when he blushed slightly and avoided meeting her eyes directly.

"Um, no, it isn't necessary, and... and, I believe it would be a good idea for me to stay off campus until classes begin again tomorrow." He admitted, and Buffy gave him a look.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing," He assured her, too quickly, and urged her toward the short line at the counter. "Just... I don't think you'll have to continue worrying about Snyder any longer, alright?"

"What did you do?" Buffy widened her eyes at him, but he was studiously reading the menu on the wall behind the baristas now, and he didn't answer her. “Giles.” She pressed.

“Do you kn-know what you’d like?” He returned, as the line moved up.

“A cappuccino.” Buffy answered dryly, eyeballing him, refusing to drop it. He wouldn’t look at her, and quietly cleared his throat as he straightened the knot of his tie. The thin press of his lips was a bit telling. “Did you get into an argument with Snyder? Oh my God, as if he doesn’t think we’re weird enough,”

“I may have, erm, given him a-an ultimatum,” Giles mumbled, and Buffy gaped at him.

“You  _ threatened _ him?!” She exclaimed, causing the young man waiting in line in front of them to turn slightly, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

“He’s a pillock.” Giles huffed defensively, glancing toward the guy in front of them. He quickly turned back around and stepped up to the counter when it was his turn, clearly not wanting to interject himself into the conversation at all. Buffy thought she might’ve recognized him, but she wasn’t sure, and figured she was just being paranoid about the possibility of other students.

“I wish I could’ve seen it,” Buffy admitted with a smile, and Giles looked down at her in surprise. She touched the elbow of his jacket for a moment, giving it a fond tug, and bumped her shoulder against his arm before letting him go. His responding smile started out nervous, but then grew genuine and he ducked his gaze away this time out of shyness.

By the time they had their drinks and were sitting at a table on the veranda, Buffy was feeling a little better. She and the other Scoobies would have some talking to do, but she knew she’d have to confront them herself if she wanted to get past this and get back to their relative normal.

**— — —**

As Giles had promised, things did eventually settle down back into a familiar, if slightly different, routine. The gang hung out together in the library, Oz and Cordelia included with regularity, the new Slayer Faith was slowly incorporated into the group, Buffy trained with Giles and got herself into even better fighting shape than she had been previously - maybe being a little older  _ did _ have its benefits, after all - and they continued to deal with the usual Hellmouthy weirdness.

There was also the new weirdness between her and Giles, but they seemed to be dealing with that, too. More or less.

Except sometimes, when he forgot. Or, when she forgot.

Usually it wasn't such a big deal; maybe sometimes when it was just the two of them they were a little more casual than before, a little more relaxed. But every now and then it was something… else.

Buffy hadn’t meant to fall asleep while on Oz-duty, but research turned out to be harder than Giles made it look. After patrol, she’d come to the library to free up Faith, and planned on keeping an eye on werewolf Oz while she looked up anything she could think might have something to do with the weird version of Angel she’d run into earlier on patrol.

Angel… after everything… but he wasn’t exactly Angel, either. And that’s what she wanted to figure out. Buffy wasn’t sure that she’d understood exactly what she was reading, however, and she knew Giles would be her best bet in clearing it up. She spent a better part of the night fretting over whether or not to tell him at all - Angel had tortured him, after all, and the less Jenny was brought up the better… 

Buffy fell asleep curled up in one of the chairs on the second floor of the library, her head propped in her hand, her worrying soothed by the familiar warmth of the room. Buffy didn’t love books as much as Giles did, but they reminded her of him, and that was calming enough. It was why she always gravitated to the room even when he hadn’t asked her to for research or for training. Before she knew it, she was out like a light, and - unsurprisingly - dreaming of Giles, and L.A., and the two of them hanging out in her tiny apartment… 

But no, not just hanging out. And it wasn’t quite her apartment, either. The bedroom was a separate room from the rest of the place, and there was more stuff around. A slightly larger kitchen, with proper counter space. A well-worn leather couch, bookshelves instead of a tv, a dark red reading chair that was very familiar. A table that two people could actually dine at comfortably.

His tweed jacket, hanging on a hook by the door, next to Buffy’s leather one. His favored jade green mug on the counter by the stove. His shoes kicked off beside the couch.

Buffy sensed his presence before she fully woke up; a warm comfort and the familiar spice of hot tea, and she smiled to herself as she shifted her head in her hand. She was aware that she was starting to wake up, but she still wasn’t quite sure if she was sensing Dream-Giles, or if he was really near.

"Hey," She murmured sleepily anyway, the sunny light of her apartment drifting into the dimmer one of the library. She blinked her eyes open slowly, to find him double-take as he took a sip of his drink.

"Hello." He greeted her warmly, with the kind of smile that made her want to curl up in his arms and go right back to sleep -

"Um, oh. Giles." She tried to sound more cool and less overly fond as she straightened up in the chair and wiped the sleepiness from her eyes, and the weird thoughts from her brain. They were in the library, in Sunnydale, not in L.A. - and more importantly, the unusually-perceptive Oz was not that far away.

" _ Exploring Demon Dimensions _ ..." Giles held one of the books she'd found last night in his other hand, and glanced down toward the pile beside her unintentional bed. "And  _ Mystery of Acathla _ ?" He lifted his gaze toward her, and she nervously got to her feet, tapping her fingers against her leg.

This was Giles. Giles who understood her even when the others didn’t - or, at least did his best to. Giles who didn’t force her to discuss Acathla more than she was willing to. Giles who amazingly never blamed her for anything regarding Angel or Angelus - not in the beginning, and not now.

"I... I need to tell you something.” Buffy admitted, her tone grave. “And I need you to believe me, and not interrupt me, and not tell me I'm crazy or imagining things or that I need to just let it all go- I... I just need you to listen to me."

He gave her a very serious look before taking another drink and nodding, gesturing his head toward the steps.

"It must be serious. I didn't think you knew what a card index was for." He teased her lightly as he settled down a few steps from the top. "I promise to listen." He added more seriously when she didn’t respond to his joke, turning a little so he could look at her as she sat down on the top step.

So she started from the beginning, or as near as she could. About running into Angel in the woods, instead of the werewolf she thought she’d been hunting. About how odd he was acting; how he wasn't the chatty ruthless bastard Angelus, but he wasn't the normal Angel either.

"He seems almost... wild. Like an animal." Buffy frowned in confusion. By now Giles had already removed his glasses, and he put the end of the earpiece between his lips as he thought over everything she'd told him.

"There was no portal that you could see?" He checked, and she shook her head.

"Nope. But there was soot on the ground at the mansion, like... like something had landed on that rug, hard. Something human-shaped."

"And he's still there? In the mansion?"

"Chained up." Buffy nodded. "He's not going anywhere." Giles looked incredibly pensive, and she couldn't help but wonder, "Is there a chance he could be... is it really him?"

"Well... there's no record of anyone returning from a demon dimension once the gate was closed." He answered her question honestly and as gently as he could. "I can't imagine how it could happen... or why."

"But you believe me, don't you?" Buffy whispered. She needed him to believe her. He was her- her stalwart. She needed that kind of solid ground right now.

"I do believe you, Buffy." Giles assured her in a murmur. Relieved by that, strengthened by it, she asked her next question,

"Why is he like that? I mean, if it is Angel... why's he so... grr, argh?"

"...From what is known about that dimension, it would suggest a world of... brutal torment." He replied carefully, setting his cup of tea aside. "And time moves quite different in other dimensions than ours, so,"

"I remember." She mumbled, and he glanced toward her face for a moment before nodding and dropping his eyes back toward the generic vicinity of her knees.

"Quite." He was the only one who seemed to have noticed that she was wearing a little heavier make-up these days. He was the only one who knew the reasoning behind that choice, anyway.

"So... he would have been down there for hundreds of years?"

"Yes," Giles whispered, meeting her gaze again, his own apologetic.

"Of torture." She knew that she had sent Angel to hell, but, to put a description to it now - to see the possible results of that action...

"It would take someone of extraordinary will and character to survive that, and retain any semblance of self. So, most likely... he'd become a monster." Giles looked away.

"A lost cause." Why was this happening to her? Why would whoever or whatever brought him back even bother? Unless the end goal was  _ her _ torture.

"Maybe." Giles admitted honestly. "Maybe not. In my experience, there are two types of monster. The first, uh, can be redeemed, or more importantly wants to be redeemed." He paused.

"And the second type?"

"The second is void of humanity - cannot respond to reason, or love." His tone of voice spoke from experience, and Buffy felt torn. They needed to figure out this Angel problem, but now she also wondered about Giles' experience with such monsters. She could read the old pain in the furrow of his brow. Was it another issue that involved Eyghon, or was it something else? What else had he experienced before coming to Sunnydale?

She slipped her hands onto his leg nearest her, just behind where his elbow rested on his knee. He glanced up to give her a quick smile at the comforting touch, and he shifted his glasses to his other hand so he could rest his palm over hers.

"We'll figure this out, Buffy." He promised her. He inhaled carefully, and added, "And if you need me to..."

"I killed him once. What's another?" She quipped sadly, and he squeezed her hand.

"This likely isn't really Angel," He sought to comfort her. "It could be a demon, or some kind of witch, making you think that it's him."

"Help me research?" She requested, and his expression softened from the pensive look of before.

"Of course."

"Hey, I thought Faith was on Oz-guard-duty," Willow greeted as she strolled into the library with a box of doughnuts in her hands, breaking the somber mood.

Buffy pulled away from Giles and stood, stepping down the stairs around him to greet her best friend. He stayed where he was, quietly thoughtful. Buffy stuffed her hands into her pockets and pretended that she didn't miss the heavy warm weight of his hand.

Could her life get any more confusing?

"Oh, hey. Change of plans," She announced to Willow.

**... ... ...**

"What's up with you and the Watcher?" Faith wondered with a jut of her chin, propping her feet up on the library table. "You hittin' that?"

"Hitting that?" Buffy repeated. "What, did I bruise him again? I mean, he wears padding when we spar, but-"

"You know what I'm askin', B," Faith laughed, popping a Skittle into her mouth, and Xander suddenly gasped and began choking on the potato chip he'd just eaten.

"Dear Lord, Xander," Giles straightened from behind the counter, not having heard the conversation up to this point. "You're supposed to chew before you swallow."

"He's Giles." Buffy frowned at Faith like she was crazy, and Faith just lifted her eyebrows.

"Just sayin', you can't keep lying to me with the 'ew' and the 'stuffy' - I saw you guys earlier." She grinned, nodding her head in approval, and Giles furrowed his brow deeply. "At that ice-cream place off of, uh, Main Street I think?"

"You guys went for ice-cream?" Willow pouted.

"We had pre-wolfy ice-cream," Oz reminded her quietly.

"Yeah, but, that wasn't with Buffy and Giles." She murmured, still put-out.

"It was... post-research ice-cream," Buffy mumbled defensively, and Giles seemed very focused again on whatever it was he was doing behind the check-out counter. "I was hungry."

"Riiight," Faith nodded and grinned as if in agreement about something. "The usual. Hungry and- "

"Woah!" Xander shouted, and then leaned forward in his seat, chuckling uncomfortably. "Faith, listen, I get you and your Watcher might not have been very Butch Cassidy and Sundance, but just because Buffy and Giles hang out sometimes doesn't mean they're... eugh!" He shuddered, and sat back in his seat and put his hand over his eyes as if he'd just seen something horrifying.

Then, he dropped his hand, and gave Buffy a curious look.

"You and Giles hang out, now?" He wondered.

"He’s my Watcher," Buffy argued defensively. "Anyway, I just wanted to talk a little about all the crap that happened over the summer and Giles- "

"You talked to Giles about L.A.?" Willow cried out, pouting even more now.

"You haven't told any of us about L.A." Xander was pouting now, too.

"What happened in L.A.?" Faith wondered curiously.

"Buffy ran away to live in a box somewhere after she had to kill her ex-boyfriend who'd turned evil and was gonna release some demon to end the entire world," Cordelia explained. "She had a bit of a meltdown about it, which honestly I can understand since she was the reason he went all evil in the first place - though, it wasn't like on purpose or anything, we can't really  _ blame _ her for following the expected tropey love for a Slayer; dark and broody and  _ a vampire  _ \- "

"Cordelia!" Giles scolded before Buffy could, and you could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed his sharp bark. "That's enough."

After a moment of awkward silence as Cordelia slouched apologetically in her chair, Faith smirked and mused,

"Reminds me of one of my exes,"

As she went off into another story, and everyone's attention diverted, Buffy slid out of her seat to take the book she was finished with to the counter.

"Cordelia has no tact, but she does care for you, in her own way." Giles murmured as he accepted the book and scanned it back into the system.

"When it suits her." Buffy sighed understandingly, and leaned her arm against the counter as she watched her friends for a moment. "I just... you already know everything that happened while I was in the city, and what made me go there in the first place. It's easier to talk to you about it; I don't have to rehash the emotionally gory details with you." She glanced toward him. “And, you know… you understand.”

"Unfortunately, I do." He ducked his head in acknowledgement of their shared misfortune.

Secretly doing more of their own studying on Acathla and dimensional travel over the past couple of days, they had also inevitably brought up what would be done if this ‘feral-Angel’ did actually turn out to really be Angel.

Hence afternoon ice-cream, and attempting to be open about their feelings regarding the vampire. As it turned out, both of them were in a conflicting mess of emotions; Buffy wasn’t entirely ecstatic about the return of her ex-boyfriend, and Giles wasn’t completely furious about it either. They acknowledged that this was a very confusing and delicate situation - and they also agreed it would be best not to tell any of the others about feral-Angel, yet.

And maybe she'd cried a little, and maybe Giles had offered her his handkerchief and then later his jacket as they walked back to his car - but really, how did that translate to what Faith was suggesting???

Giles rested his hand over Buffy's on the counter, squeezing his fingers around her palm. She gave him a small smile, re-focusing. He smiled back, and then glanced toward the table behind her and quickly pulled his hand away, focusing toward the computer as he cleared his throat.

Buffy looked over to find Faith watching her, one eyebrow raised again and a smirk on her lips, and Buffy rolled her eyes at the other Slayer as she straightened and headed back to her chair.

**... ... ...**

"Oh, Buffy, this is for you." Giles stopped her before she followed the rest of the gang out of the library. She turned back to see the brown paper bag in his hand, and brightened, skipping over to take it from him and open it up.

"Ooo, is it Chinese? I've been craving Chinese lately, how did you know- " She cut herself off as she stared down into the bag, and then slowly retrieved the clear container filled with dark liquid. "This isn't sweet and sour sauce, is it?" She figured gravely.

"Ah, no." Giles admitted, giving her a bit of a sheepish look as he covered her hand to push the container down back inside of the bag. "If... if it really is Angel, he'll likely be incredibly weak. Too weak to hunt well for himself; it would explain why his... er, victims, were so mauled."

"You... where did you get this?" Buffy’s surprise at Giles' helpfulness switched toward dismay.

"The butchers," He assured her softly.

"It's… what, cow? Pig?" She figured, not really asking, and he nodded slowly.

"Pigs blood is close enough to- to human that it should help him, um, heal sufficiently. ...Be careful, alright?" He murmured as she rolled the bag closed again. She nodded and gave him a grateful look.

Neither of them were still quite sure whether Angel was truly fully Angel again, or if he ever would be... he'd improved vastly over the last few days, but there was still so much mystery to his return. He wasn't talking about it at all. He refused to leave the mansion even after Buffy had unchained him, and while Giles was the only other person Angel might talk to, Buffy wasn't about to ask Giles to return there, so right now they were sort of at a stalemate.

"I'll let you know when I get back home after patrol," Buffy promised her Watcher, then headed out to feed her ex-lover.

**— — —**

Giles caught up with Buffy and Cordelia in the hallway, hesitantly joining their exit from the gymnasium, walking at Buffy's side.

"I'm, er, sorry you didn't win."

"I don't even want to  _ talk _ about it," Cordelia huffed. "I just can't believe it! After all that work buying a hundred dollars worth of baked goods, reprinting fliers  _ three times _ , and then almost dying tonight to boot! I mean, in what world do  _ I _ look like a  _ Slayer _ ?"

Buffy and Giles glanced toward one another and shared a look, but neither said anything aloud. They walked down the hall in silence for a moment, and Cordelia pursed her lips, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, you were mostly saying that to Buffy." She grudgingly acknowledged, then muttered under her breath, “Xander was right. You are a Watcher’s Pet.”

"I just wanted something that wasn't Slayer-y," Buffy mumbled, looking down at the destroyed strap of her dress as she attempted to draw it back over her shoulder, pointedly ignoring Cordelia’s comment and also ignoring the resulting flush it brought to her cheeks. Xander had called her a Watcher’s Pet? When? And why?

"And you'll have it," Giles assured her earnestly, touching her elbow to pull her to a stop. "I meant what I told you in L.A., Buffy. You  _ are _ more than just the Slayer. Maybe you're- you’re not Homecoming Queen, but, perhaps, well- " He scrambled for an idea. "There's always Prom."

"God," Buffy groaned deeply, "I  _ do not _ want to think that far ahead. Homecoming Queen prep was exhausting enough."

"L.A.?" Cordelia stopped, having walked a few paces ahead before she realized they'd forgotten about her. "You were with Buffy in L.A.?"

"Erm..." Giles looked caught out, and mildly panicked.

"He, uh, just briefly," Buffy hurriedly explained. "There was a demon problem. I called him up, right before- right before I came back to Sunnydale."

"Oh..." Cordelia frowned a little. "Because everyone thinks you never found her."

"I, um,"

"Cordy, just drop it alright?" Buffy sighed as if she were tired - which she was. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"I guess not. Hey- I'm going home and getting out of this dress. It's going to be a fortune to dry clean... I'm taking the limo, okay? You two are on your own." She raised her eyebrow cockily and spun on her heel without waiting for a response, her shoes tap-tapping down the hall.

"It isn't as if I have my own car, and license." Giles grumbled. "How ever will I manage?"

"Hey Giles? Can I... join you in the library for a little while?" Buffy asked quietly, and he looked at her with surprise.

"You don't want to stay with the others? Surely there will be more dancing for another hour or so. And I must say, the finger sandwiches are- "

"I don't really want to be around people right now." She admitted, and he nodded in understanding. "Not that you aren't people!" She suddenly corrected. "You're just- you're Giles."

"I believe I understand." He assured her with a small smile, and put his hand on her elbow again, walking with her toward their haven - safety being relative, considering recent events. But it was about as close as you could get.

She picked up a few of the books that had been tossed to the floor after the bookshelf had been destroyed by her landing on it, stacking them on top of the nearby cabinets, while Giles made them both some tea.

"Your dress is very lovely." He offered along with a steaming mug once it was ready, which Buffy accepted gratefully. She grimaced down at her dirt-stained dress, though.

"This cost me almost all of my allowance," She sighed with remorse, and settled into a chair as Giles hitched his hip on the corner of the table near her.

"I'm sure it can be repaired."

"Yeah," She shrugged. "I guess I should be happy I didn't get any blood on it, this time."

"Oh," He seemed to only just notice the cut on her arm, and he put down his mug as he slid to his feet. "You're hurt,"

"What?" She glanced down at the wound, and blinked at it. "I kinda forgot about that."

He went to get the first-aid kit, and then returned to his previous position, indicating for her to sit forward on the edge of her chair so he could better reach her arm. They were both quiet as he cleaned up the cut and put a few butterfly bandages across it, and Buffy tried not to think too hard on the warmth of his thumb as he rubbed it comfortingly against her skin.

Familiar, like a dream she’d had the night before; walking into her apartment and having Giles there, greeting her at the door with a hand on her shoulder and a smile on his face -

"Anything else I should worry about?" He murmured, as if he didn't want to break the comfortable silence between them. Buffy shook her head, not wanting to interrupt that either, and leaned back in her seat again as she focused once more on her tea.

She eyed Giles closely once he looked away, as he packed up the first-aid box and returned it to where it belonged.

"You look good in a suit other than tweed." Buffy told him, and he glanced up to her and gave her a small smile. Even from across the room, she could read the surprise on his face - though it was mostly of the pleased variety.

She sent him a little smile of her own, so he knew she was being sincere and not teasing him again, and she sipped her tea.


	4. Chapter 03 (Band Candy)

"Oh, I gotta go," Buffy stuffed one more dumpling into her mouth before snagging one of the boxes of chocolates and heading for the door.

"What? You're going out?" Joyce protested.

"Giles." Buffy explained, pausing briefly. "Slay-study double feature - could be late."

"Again?" Joyce gave her a look, and Buffy wasn't sure she liked the insinuation behind said look. "Honey, don't you think Mr. Giles is monopolizing an awful lot of your time?" She sounded annoyed, and mildly suspicious, so Buffy went for the disarming quip,

"And does he  _ ever _ say he's sorry?"

She skipped out before her mom could say anything else, heading back to the school where they'd agreed to meet at the library before patrol. Giles had sounded a bit aloof about something when he'd told her to meet him there, and she just hoped to God it didn't mean she was about to get the nerdy English version of the SAT - which in her imagination was a thousand times worse than the one she already had to prep for.

So call her surprised when she found the books closed and pushed aside on the table, and one of the rubber kickballs from the gym resting beside them.

"Good afternoon," Giles greeted her warmly, excitedly. "I thought we'd do a spot of training first, before patrol." She watched him warily as he crossed the room toward the center table and picked up a piece of black fabric from beside the ball.

She raised her eyebrow at him and folded her arms across her chest.

"Kinky."

Thank  _ God _ her mother had no idea about  _ this _ .

“Do try to be mature, Buffy,” Giles rolled his eyes, not actually sounding all that embarrassed by her joke, and she lifted her other eyebrow to join the first.

“All I’m sayin’,” She held the box of remaining chocolate bars aloft, “This demands some kind of exchange here, buddy. I’m not gonna join in on your bondage fun until I know I get something out of it.”

“I- you- ” Giles moved his mouth soundlessly, looking flustered for a moment, and then kind of annoyed. “This isn’t- ”

He huffed, and then stepped forward to snatch the box from her, giving it a look before he set it on the table behind him. She grinned, pleased to have successfully flustered him. Giles was fun to fluster.

“If this  _ were _ ‘bondage fun’, you  _ would _ be getting something out of it,” Giles muttered under his breath while his back was to her. Buffy was one-hundred percent sure she wasn’t supposed to hear that - but Slayer hearing, what could you do?

She stared in amazement at him for a moment, surprised that she wasn’t really grossed out by his snarky return. Mostly, she felt curious.

As he turned around, she straightened and adopted a calm mask of indifference.

“I would like to test your other senses, would your sight be unavailable to you,” Giles explained.

“What have you read?” Buffy worried immediately, forgetting about Giles and his curiosities for a moment. “Am I gonna go blind?!”

“No, Buffy,” Giles sighed a soothing sound as he stepped closer. “There have been no prophecies as of late.”

“Oh.” Buffy relaxed. “Good.”

He held the fabric up, and she nodded, keeping still as he stepped around to her back.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit nervous as he carefully draped the black fabric over her eyes, but as her other senses immediately sharpened with awareness, she relaxed. Giles was here, and he wouldn’t let anything really bad happen. Besides, it was just a piece of felt. She could yank it off if they actually got attacked.

“Ow!” Buffy yelped when he snagged a piece of her hair as he tied the knot at the back of her head.

“Sorry,” He murmured, brushing the caught hair free of the knot before carefully pulling it snug.

“Why do I put up with this?” Buffy wondered fondly, hoping her smile wasn’t too obvious. As Giles stepped around her right side, she knew exactly where he was even before he spoke. She could hear his heartbeat; a little bit elevated, but she expected that was his excitement for the new training thing. What a nerd.

“Because it is your destiny,” He replied dryly, and then added, “and because I bought twenty ‘cocorific’ candy bars.”

His clothing rustled as he moved, but she was still mildly startled when she felt the kickball pressed against her sternum. She automatically reached up to grab it, accidentally grabbing Giles’ tie as well. It’s softness surprised her, for some reason, and briefly she found herself wishing he’d used that to cover her eyes instead of the felt.

Before she could get too embarrassed by her brain, she felt him brush the end of his tie out of her hands and she clutched the ball against her chest as she ‘looked’ toward the vicinity where his voice was coming from.

“Okay, you’re just doing this to take funny pictures of me.” Buffy joked, the rubber smell of the ball temporarily overwhelming everything else, which she was grateful for. Time to stop thinking about Giles’ soft ties against her skin.

“I’m doing it,” Giles replied in his Watcher voice, “to test your awareness of an opponent’s location during a fight in total darkness. Now, wait five seconds, and then throw the ball at me.”

As he slowly circled her, his scent surrounded her for a moment, as familiar to her as the scent of her own home. Tea, a little spicy and warm; books, leather and paper and ink; something woodsy, probably his cologne. There was a mild tang of sweat, too, not unpleasant, but spoke of the end of a long day.

“You ran out of new training ideas about a week ago, huh?” Buffy teased him in a bit of a blurt, wanting to stop thinking so deeply about Giles’  _ smell _ .

It was absolutely not that interesting, at all.

“Okay,” She sighed when he didn’t respond, and then counted, “Five, four, three, two, one,”

She gave him kudos for being able to walk silently toward the cage, but his heart was still beating a little quickly and it seemed quite loud, to her. She turned her back to him, wanting to trick him a little, and then she decided to show off, instead.

She knew the library like the back of her hand, so - assured that she was facing the entry to his office - she quickly judged the angles and how hard she should throw the ball before launching it toward the wall.

“It’s not that simple, is it- ” Giles smug tone was interrupted by the smack of the ball against his head. “Ow.” It bounced to the floor and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, v-very good.”

“Thanks!” Buffy replied cheerily, tugging the blindfold off. She didn’t hate having it on because she didn’t trust Giles - of course she trusted him - but her hyper-awareness of him was making her uncomfortable. She needed space, air to breathe that wasn’t his air.

“Wh-where are you going?” Giles wondered as she headed for the doors. “We have to patrol,” He sounded a bit put-out, and Buffy winced before schooling her features and turning back toward him.

“I can’t, Mom’s in hyperdrive, she wants me home tonight. I told you.” She hadn’t told him, but she kept walking. The relative fresh air of the hallway was calling to her.

“But- I- ”

“I know, I know. She’s out of control. Enjoy the candy!” She retreated quickly before he could say anything else, the disappointment in his tone not going missed by her.

She just... felt like it would’ve been a bad idea to stay in there right now, especially if it meant more tests focusing all of her senses onto Giles.

Giles with his soft ties and nice smell and loud heart.

Yeah, bad idea.

**... ... ...**

When Giles didn’t show up to cover their study hall the following day, Buffy figured something was going on. Between his weirdness at the house the night before, and then not seeing him all day today, he wasn’t exactly acting like himself.

He and her mom had believed her last night when she’d told them she’d just wanted to patrol on her own, have a quiet walk with just the vampires for company, and give her brain a break from all the SAT studying. She’d told Giles that she’d lied because she hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, but it was obvious his feelings had still been hurt anyway.

With the surprising clarity of emotion on his face, and his weird words (‘freaked out’, really? Who the heck  _ was _ he?), Buffy had sat on her bed for a long while, wondering if she’d somehow already ruined the rapport they had built in L.A.

And then to go to his apartment after school to find him just...  _ hanging out _ with her mother??? No way. There had to be like, some invasion of the body snatchers going on, or something.

“Take the car, honey,” Joyce offered, fishing the keys from her pocketbook and standing to hand them to Buffy. Buffy gaped at her.

“What?”

“Mr. Giles can drive me home,”

“No!” Buffy’s immediate response blurted out before her brain could get too excited at the prospect of finally, finally being able to drive. “Mom, you almost grounded me for even bringing that up yesterday! Is this some kind of trick?” She narrowed her eyes toward Giles, who’d tugged his glasses off and moved towards the fireplace. “Some kind of a test? Look, I’m sorry I lied about last night’s patrol, alright? Just... ground me or whatever. Not whatever this is!”

“Whatever what is?” Joyce frowned, like she was honestly confused. “Well, if you’d rather walk home,” She shrugged and held onto the keys, and Buffy stood stoic.

“I need to talk to my Watcher, Mom.” Buffy announced firmly. “Alone.” Joyce might’ve been making an effort since L.A. but she still didn’t like Giles  _ that _ much, and now they were spending time together  _ two days in a row _ .

Super wiggy.

And no, Buffy was  _ not _ jealous.

Joyce sighed heavily, but when Buffy folded her arms across her chest, her mom hoisted her purse onto her shoulder and snagged a bar of chocolate before rounding the couch.

“I’m taking one of these with me,” She informed Giles, peeling it open, and he shrugged. Joyce left the apartment without another word, and Buffy turned to watch her go, incredulous.

“What is it, Buffy?” Giles sounded annoyed, annoyed in a way that hadn’t been quite this sincere in a long time.

“I really am sorry,” Buffy told him earnestly, stepping a little closer to the couch. “For not being straight with you yesterday,”

“I thought we were past that,” Giles replied in frustration, and Buffy blinked in surprise at his open emotion, but let him continue uninterrupted, “Lying to one another about- about- frivolous things!” He scratched his hand through his hair as he paced a little in front of the fireplace.

Buffy slowly rested her hip against the arm of the couch, watching him closely. He seemed way more agitated than she would have normally expected. There was no way she could tell him the truth, though; that their little sensory test had wigged her out and she’d felt  _ too aware _ of everything about him - so she tried to shift the topic around.

“Did I...” Buffy grimaced as the thought came to her, and prayed to everything she knew that it wasn’t true, “Did I interrupt something? Between you and- uh- my mom?”

Giles stared at her for a minute, as if he had to translate her words, and she stared back, unblinking.

“I came over last night looking for  _ you _ ,” He informed her, jutting his finger toward her. “And you weren’t there! Were you really out patrolling for that long? By yourself? Or were you with Angel?”

His hard gaze was more than angry - he was also hurt. Even more than he’d let on in her living room last night.

“No- Giles, you know we just brought him food the other day. He won’t need more until tomorrow,” Buffy furrowed her brow, wanting him to believe her honesty.

“You expect me to believe that you only see him during feeding times?” Giles scoffed. “You’re still in love with him, after everything!”

“No, I- ” She felt thrown for a loop; she thought for sure they’d already moved past this. That Giles, amazing as it was, had understood Angelus was not Angel, and Angel was not Angelus. That Buffy’s feelings were still a little muddled, but her heart... she did know better than to give Angel her heart, again. “It’s not that simple!”

“Simple.” He snorted, and Buffy frowned even deeper at the derisive sound, feeling like he might as well have stabbed a dagger into her gut. “It never is, is it.” He fumbled with something on the mantle before Buffy realized he was tucking a cigarette into his mouth.

“Giles, what- ”

“I need some space, Buffy!” He huffed at her around the cigarette, focusing on getting the lighter to catch. “Come back later.”

“You need some space?” Buffy repeated in amazement, a little hurt by his anger but mostly still confused by everything else. She looked around the apartment, wondering if there was some sort of sign for all this weirdness- “Is that a  _ bottle of wine _ ?!” Buffy exclaimed, launching herself around to the front of the couch to pick up the bottle half-hidden where her mother had been sitting. It wasn’t opened yet, but that only provided a very mild relief.

Giles paused, the lighter not yet lit, cigarette dangling between his lips.

“ _ Oh my God _ ,” Buffy groaned deeply, putting the bottle heavily on the coffee table and backing away from it, away from the couch, away from Giles. “Oh my God, there  _ is _ something going on between you and my mom! Oh my God!”

No, no, no - that was all wrong. Just the idea of it made her heart clench tightly in her chest and her stomach curl.

“Buffy,” Giles frowned, and reached up to pull the cigarette out of his mouth. “It isn’t what you think.”

“You  _ skipped school _ to hang out with her!” Buffy wailed, tripping over the end table and distractedly managing to catch the lamp and put it back into place as it wobbled dangerously. 

Last night she’d dreamt hazy thoughts of his warmth and his scent and his voice and it was all confusing enough on its own - now he was putting the moves on her  _ mother _ ?! It made Buffy feel gross about her own feelings, whatever they were, and reminded her of how much younger than him she still was, alternate-dimension be damned.

“Don’t- don’t turn this on me when you were the one- ” Giles started to protest, and Buffy shook her head vehemently as she continued backing up.

“I  _ wasn’t _ with Angel last night,” Buffy insisted, “no matter what you’d rather tell yourself.  _ This _ ?” She laughed a bit manically and glanced around again. Nothing seemed out of place or odd, other than the two adults themselves. Looking so  _ comfortable _ together. When were they ever comfortable together? Especially after this last summer?

“Buffy, there’s nothing going on between your mother and I,” Giles informed her seriously, sounding more like himself in that moment than he had since appearing at her house last night. He quickly closed the space between them and grasped Buffy’s arm before she could quite reach the front door. “Don’t go,”

“You just ordered me out!” She protested, twisting herself free from his hand. “You- you- ” She trailed off, and then straightened. “You skipped school.”

“I- I didn’t skip,” Giles argued somewhat petulantly. “I told you, I called in.”

Now feeling the weight of her curious stare, he turned and stepped toward the bar counter, digging into the box of chocolates for another package. He abandoned his cigarette for the candy, and Buffy quickly leapt forward and snagged it and the lighter, tucking them into her pocket.

“Hey!” Giles protested, but didn’t try to get them back, instead peeling open the wrapper and breaking off a piece of candy. He popped it into his mouth, chewing as if he were still a little frustrated.

“Smoking is bad for you.” Buffy informed him distractedly, pacing a little in front of his desk, thinking. “I should call Willow.”

“You should!” Giles suddenly pointed at her. “You lied to her, too! You should apologize.”

Buffy paused, and gave him a look.

“Okay, Xander,” She mocked his attitude with a raised eyebrow for a moment, but then turned to the phone. He was acting so much like a-

Buffy stopped. Her mom wasn’t the lazy type either, but… Giles spending his spare time lounging about? No jacket, no waistcoat, _no book_? … His voice played in her head, _‘A noticeable change in both clothing and demeanor?_ _It’s devastating. He’s turned into a sixteen-year-old boy. Of course, you’ll have to kill him.’_

“Stay here,” Buffy ordered Giles, heading for the door again. “I need to go check something,”

“Wait!” Giles followed after her, candy in hand. “I’ll come with you.”

“You wanted space from me,” Buffy reminded him, annoyed by his flip-flopping attitude, frowning again as she watched him hurriedly tug off his tie and drop it onto his desk.

He shook his head as he joined her in the entryway, pulling his front door closed behind him.

“I... lied,” He admitted, sounding a little ashamed about it. “I was frustrated.”

“Clearly.” She muttered, slowly looking him up and down. He was awfully rumpled to be wanting to stroll around Sunnydale with her.

“You- you really weren’t with Angel last night?” Giles wondered softly, interrupting her musings.

“No. I was not.” She had been too busy roaming the headstones and wondering why she couldn’t get his  _ scent _ out of her head. She’d considered, briefly, that she was turning into a werewolf somehow; maybe she’d accidentally been bitten by Oz and didn’t realize it.

She gave Giles another askance look, noticing something else.

“You sure you’re alright? You sound... different.”

“Feel fine,” Giles shrugged, popping another piece of chocolate into his mouth, and then made an uncomfortable face before shrugging his bracers off to let them dangle by his legs. “Feel better than ever, really.” He admitted with a wondering smile, and Buffy blinked at him. “Let’s go!” He gestured ahead brightly, and Buffy looked him up and down again.

“Like that?”

“What?” He glanced down as well, and then pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You’re right. Here,”

He handed her what was left of the candy bar and she took it automatically as she watched him quickly unbutton his collared shirt and tug it out of his waistband before shrugging it off his shoulders. Her eyes widened but he just opened the door again to toss the shirt inside the house, before closing it again and grinning at her.

“Ready now.” He snagged the chocolate from her as she stood there gaping at his white t-shirt. “We should see if we can find more of these,” He mused as he strolled through the courtyard and to the sidewalk. “Bloody good.”

The lines of his bracers dangling against his butt drew her attention down, and she swallowed hard before shaking herself into focus and hurrying to catch up to him.

They walked in relative silence for a few minutes, Giles easily keeping up with her steady pace with a bit of a skip in his own.

“Sun’s setting soon,” He noted excitedly. “We gonna patrol?”

“No, we’re not ‘gonna patrol’,” Buffy gave him a weird look, which he didn’t notice because he was digging out the remaining piece of chocolate from the wrapper. “We’re looking for Willow, first. I think she mentioned Oz is playing at the Bronze tonight; she’ll be there,”

“The Bronze?” Giles groaned in complaint, balling up the wrapper in a fist and dropping it forgotten to the ground. “That place is so dead.”

“What- Giles- ” She doubled back and snagged the litter, tossing it into the can just two steps away. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” He protested, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m with my Slayer.” He smiled. “Right as rain.” His casual ownership of that, ‘my Slayer’, did a funny thing to her.

A funny thing she resolutely ignored.

“Can’t believe I gave up the  _ car _ to babysit  _ you _ ,” Buffy complained under her breath, loud enough for Giles to still hear.

“Oi!” He protested, and she darted her eyes toward him again in surprise at the exclamation. “I don’t need babysitting! Maybe  _ you _ need babysitting!” His accusation was teasing, though, and followed with a nudging elbow and a grin. Before she could formulate a response to that, he put a hand on her shoulder and tugged off the strap of her bag. “Where’s my cigarette?”

“Hey!” Buffy grabbed the strap and pulled it back on, turning to face him so the opening of her bag was more out of his reach.

“That’s right - in your pocket,” His hands darted down before she could even blink and catch up to what was happening; one hand warm and steadying against her opposite hip as he dipped the fingers of his other hand into the front pocket of her jeans.

“Giles!” She accused, but as she moved her hips out of his reach he’d already snagged the cigarette and the lighter, and was able to pull them free.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t apologize for his over-familiarity, only wiggled his eyebrows at her and even  _ chuckled _ a little before tucking the cigarette between his lips and lighting it up.

Buffy gaped at him as he breathed in a slow mouthful of smoke and then released it into the air.

“Alright,” He sighed heavily, and tilted his head in the direction they’d been heading. “Let’s go. But I’m not hanging around that place forever,” he warned, “like some ponce.”

When they stepped into the dance hall, Giles immediately focused his attention on the band, clearly judging their talent as he drifted closer to the stage. Buffy followed him distractedly, staring at the crowd around them.

The very adult crowd around them, very much not acting like adults.

“Let’s do the time warp, again,” Buffy muttered, even recognizing a few of the teachers from school, teachers that would never have set foot in The Bronze normally. Whatever this was, it clearly wasn’t only affecting Giles… what the heck was going on?

“I was in that show, once,” Giles mentioned suddenly, shoulder-to-shoulder with her - well, her shoulder to his upper arm - and Buffy slowly turned her gaze toward him in disbelief. He glanced down at her to catch her look, and he nodded before focusing back toward the stage. “Yep. Played Frank-N-Furter,” He drawled the name out in an odd tone of voice, odder than his voice already was, and Buffy desperately wished she would find Willow soon. She needed a second pair of eyes - and ears - on this situation. “What a riotous time,” He laughed, apparently caught up in memories, and Buffy stared at him in concern.

Definite invasion of the body snatchers. Giles? In fishnets and heels? Something had inhabited her Watcher’s body and was taking it for a spin. Something that was making him act more Ripper-y than Giles-y. She resolved to go along with him, keep him thinking she wasn’t  _ too _ suspicious. Besides that… it was looking as if the entire town was body-snatched.

“Buffy!” Willow’s voice called through the crowd, and she released a sigh of relief as she turned to greet her friend that sidled up to her other side. “Giles! What a- a surprise to see you here...” Willow gave Buffy a look; she’d have expected Buffy to lie to get out of training, not bring Giles along with her.

“Something’s going on, Will,” Buffy informed her, and Willow raised her eyebrows and nodded in agreement as she looked around the room.

“You’re telling me! It’s like a reunion is in town, or Billy Joel, or, or,” Her eyes had landed back on Giles, and she stammered into silence, her mouth still moving but no sounds coming out.

Buffy looked back at him, wondering what he was doing, and watched as he took one last puff on the shortened stub of cigarette before dropping it to the floor and grinding it out beneath the toe of his shoe.

“Okay,” Giles announced, lopping his arm casually across Buffy’s shoulders. “We’ve found Willow. Shall we shog?”

“Shall we  _ what _ ?” Buffy blurted, and he laughed.

“Shog, luv,” He repeated in amusement. “Let’s get outta here.” Then he dipped his head a little closer to her, and smirked. “Though if you wanna discuss shagging...”

“No!” Buffy shouted, stepping out from under his arm, unintentionally bumping Willow to the side in the process. “No, I do not!” This definitely wasn’t Giles.

Giles didn’t seem bothered, only kept that little smile on his face as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“The band isn’t that bad,” He admitted, and looked around The Bronze again. “The location sucks. Let’s go patrol.”

“This is not normal!” Willow blurted out, finally finding her voice, and Buffy gave her a look. “Well, the obsession with patrol part is actually normal, but- ”

“Hey! Gang!” Principal Snyder, of all people, suddenly appeared between Buffy and Willow and threw his arms around their shoulders. “This place is fun city, huh?” He laughed, and both girls stared at him incredulously.

“Principal Snyder?” Buffy wondered, seriously wigged out now. While Giles had his moments of weirdness,  _ this _ was... this was way of the weird. Off the scale of weird.

“Call me Snyder,” He replied, letting them go so he could do an odd little dance with his hips - something Buffy never wanted to see or think about ever again. “Just a last name, like... Barbarino.”

“Oi!” Giles put his arm around Buffy’s shoulders again, a little less casual and a little more territorial this time. “Get your paws off my Sl- ”

“Girl!” Buffy shouted, interrupting him before he said something this Snyder-faced-weirdo shouldn’t be hearing. She winced, then - that sounded definitely worse.

“Hey, no beef- ” Snyder held his hands up in the air innocently, but then gave Giles a look, “Except you skipped out today! I can get you in trouble for that, you know. I’m the Principal!” He announced that gleefully, like it was amazing news to him, and Buffy and Willow shared a deeply concerned look.

“I called in.” Giles huffed, frowning at him. “Not my fault if no one answered.”

“Giles!” Buffy chastised, leaning just a little bit away from him so she wasn’t so comfortably nestled against his side.

Giles was not comfortable. He was Giles. Her Watcher. The Man in the Tweed.

Though, distinctly tweed-less currently.

“Hey- you know all the down-lows of this town- ” Snyder suddenly leaned in close. “You know where I can find more of that awesome chocolate? Get me some more of that and consider us even! I’ll even conveniently look away whenever you and  _ your girl _ are alone together in that creepy library of yours.”

“Hey!” Buffy protested as Willow blushed enough for all of them.

“Chocolate!” Giles brightened, and then nodded with determination. “You’ve got a deal, Snyder.”

“Great,” Snyder brightened and glanced around the dance floor. “Hey, is that your Mom, Summers?” His tone of voice made Buffy  _ severely _ uncomfortable.

“You keep your mitts off of her,” Buffy warned, and he gave her that same innocent look that he’d given Giles earlier.

“Nothing wrong with a little dancing!” He pointed out, dancing off into the crowd.

They all stared after him for a moment and, while it was way creepy to see her mother at The Bronze, having fun, dancing - dancing with  _ Snyder _ of all people - she realized that they were at least at a friendly distance and it didn’t appear romantic in any way.

She couldn’t babysit her mother  _ and _ figure out what was going on. She needed to prioritize.

“I don’t like this. They could all... have heart attacks!” Willow commented in concern, and Buffy realized that Giles still had his arm hanging around her, and she gently shrugged it off. Again, he didn’t seem so bothered, though he pouted as he patted his pockets.

“I left my smokes in the flat,” He whined.

“What’s happening?” Willow worried, focusing back on Giles.

“I don’t know,” Buffy mused, though she was starting to get an idea. Well, a better idea than body-snatchers, anyway. Probably. “But it’s happening to a whole lot of grown-ups.” She took Giles’ arm as she and Willow headed for a less crowded area, momentarily surprised by the warm skin she felt instead of the shirt she’d unconsciously been expecting.

“They’re acting like a bunch- ”

“They’re acting like a bunch of us,” Buffy told her. And it had definitely started last night; Giles being all extra and hiding in the living room so he could catch Buffy in the bald-faced lie, then him and her mom... and him and her mom again, earlier today... and his... “Giles!” Buffy scolded him again, brushing his hand away from her hair.

“Sorry,” He tucked his hands into his pockets again. “S’ very pretty.” He grinned a bit boyishly. “But you are my girl, right?”

Buffy stared at him with wide eyes, too busy urging her heart rate to stay down to reply to his comment.

“Something’s definitely changing them,” Willow nodded as she stared at the two of them oddly. “I’m going to get Oz!”

As she darted off, Buffy and Giles both leaned back against the edge of the pool table, side by side.

“She worries too much,” Giles complained. “C’mon, let’s go find some vampires,” He jiggled his leg and tangled his fingers through his hair, mussing it up, growing anxious again.

He was full of unbridled energy; Buffy could not only tell by his mannerisms but also in the way his scent had changed. His heart was pumping strong, eager, and his adrenalin had risen.

It was actually making her more antsy as well; her Slayer instincts responding to the tells from her Watcher and preparing for the fight to come. She wasn’t sure there really  _ was _ a fight to come, but instincts were instincts.

“Keep your voice down,” Buffy griped. “We don’t talk about the Slaying in public, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He winced, then leaned his shoulder against hers to joke, “Don’t want the Council to arrest us!” He made a spooky noise, and then laughed. “Bunch of pillocks.”

Buffy turned her head to stare at him in surprise again, but she heard Willow’s voice before she could say anything.

“Something’s definitely changing them,” Willow was telling Oz as the two of them pushed through the crowd to rejoin Buffy and Giles. “See?” She gestured toward Giles in point, who frowned at her a little indignantly.

“A spell?” Oz wondered, looking the Watcher up and down. “They’re teenagers. It’s a sobering mirror to look into, huh?” He looked rather impressed by Giles, who smirked a little at him, and Buffy did not need him going off all cocky again.

A group of drunk and half-shirtless men crowded together behind the abandoned microphone on the stage, drawing everyone’s attention as they began singing a horrible rendition of  _ ‘Louie Louie’ _ .

“No vampire has ever been that scary.” Buffy commented seriously, unable to look away from the train wreck, and she felt Giles shudder next to her.

“Please, luv, let’s go,” He begged, straightening and stepping backwards toward the exit. “I can’t handle this bloody place any more,”

As a half-assed fight began to break out between a few guys, Buffy whole-heartedly agreed.

“We need to figure out what’s going on,” She followed Giles out, who perked up when he realized they were finally leaving, and quickly made a path toward the door.

Buffy saw when he briefly paused beside a dancing couple, then deftly snagged the chocolate bar sticking out of the back of the man’s pocket, tearing open the wrapper as he shouldered the door open.

Buffy narrowed her eyes as she watched him take a bite of the candy, and the way pleasure seemed to fill him at the taste of the chocolate.

“Hey!” Snyder suddenly appeared behind them again, following them out onto the street. “You guys aren’t leaving me behind, are you?”

“Uh, Snyder,” Oz noted worriedly.

“We’re going to find more chocolate, right?” Snyder bounced up beside Buffy, to which Giles glared over her head at him from her other side.

“Yes,” Buffy replied slowly, watching as Giles angrily ripped another bite out of the bar. “We are.” She snagged it from him and straightened out the wrapper, reading it.

“Oi!” Giles protested, mouth full.

“Oh! Can I have some?” Snyder asked hopefully, reaching, and Buffy stretched her arms out of his reach, still trying to read the paper.

“Where did this come from?” She demanded the Principal.

“Probably one of the facilities at the docks,” Snyder shrugged. “Shipped in from some European company.”

He darted a hand out again and managed to snag a good chunk of the chocolate, crowing in success. Giles growled and snatched the package from Buffy’s hand, hoarding what remained for himself.

“Hope there’s more there! This stuff is a hit!” Snyder grinned as he ate his treasure, and Buffy looked back toward Willow and Oz warily. They were staring at the three of them with equally wide eyes.

“To the docks we go,” Oz figured hesitantly.

The group passed more adults hanging out in the park, goofing off and doing... other things that teenagers did in parks at nighttime.

“Ew,” Buffy grimaced, catching her neighbors making out against the swing set. At least they were married to each other, she supposed. But still.

“I- I figured teenager Giles would still be Mr. Put-Together guy,” Oz admitted, watching as Giles stepped to the side to kick at a tin can left by the gutter. It went clattering ahead down the street, and when they reached it again, he kicked it once more.

“W-well...” Willow winced.

“What?” Oz wondered.

“Giles at sixteen?” Buffy winced, as well. “Less ‘together guy’, more ‘bad magic, hates the world, ticking time bomb guy’.” Giles frowned at her and she sent him an apologetic look, tucking her elbow around his.

He seemed less on edge when he would touch her, so she hoped that could work both ways. To her relief, he didn’t argue or even comment at all on her statement, simply stopped kicking the can and leaned against her, maneuvering his arm across her shoulders again so he could hold her against him. She felt awkward for a moment, but gingerly wrapped her arm around his waist so they could walk together more easily, and she relaxed as she realized how comfortable this actually was.

Buffy noticed that he didn’t seem  _ quite _ as full-on ‘Ripper’ as she would have expected, which she attributed to the fact that she’s more or less kept him from continually eating that chocolate like everybody else was. It didn’t seem to be affecting him quite as much as it was, say, Snyder.

“You’ve got  _ great _ hair,” Snyder mused toward Oz, who blinked uncomfortably and gave Willow a ‘help me’ look.

Giles was very warm, and surprisingly solid, and she wasn’t sure what to think about how much she liked the way their hips bumped together as they strolled down the street together. She wished they were in L.A. again, just the two of them, not distracted by vampires or demons -

“Wait,” Buffy pulled Giles to a stop, and the rest of the group paused as well. “It’s quiet.”

“Too quiet,” Giles added in a spooky tone, and then giggled. “Always wanted to say that.”

“I  _ mean _ ,” Buffy gave him a look, “no grown-ups... no one’s protecting their houses. Everyone’s just wandering.” They all looked around, watching as a group of guys dressed like greasers all smoked together beneath a tree.

“Oh,” Giles started hopefully, pulling in their direction, but Buffy tightened her arm around his waist and held him back. “You’re not my mum!” Giles huffed at her in annoyance, trying and failing to wriggle out of her grasp.

“Do you want a cigarette that bad, or do you want to patrol?” Buffy raised her eyebrow at him. “Because we aren’t doing both.”

He frowned deeply at her for a moment, and then groaned and stopped trying to pull away from her.

“Fine.” Under his breath, he complained, “Nag.”

“ _ Pillock _ ,” Buffy returned hotly as she let him go, the only British insult she could remember. Giles looked surprised by her retort, but faced her more fully and replied,

“Tart!”

Buffy wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what that meant, but by the way Willow and Oz both raised their eyebrows in shock, it wasn’t great. Scrambling for a moment, she finally managed to say,

“Git!” She wasn’t sure what that meant, either, but Giles’ surprise went up another notch. He also looked amused. And maybe... a little turned on?

Uh-oh.

“Cow,” His tone wasn’t harsh at all; in fact just the opposite, and he shifted slightly closer to her, his thigh brushing against hers.

“Um, uh, prat!” Buffy held her ground, lifting her chin up defiantly, her pulse quickening.

Giles smiled slowly at her, a dangerous kind of look, and Buffy swallowed against the skip of her heart in her throat.

“Hey!” Oz called out loudly, pushing between them and forcing them apart. “This lesson in British slang has been illuminating, but I’d like to know your point about the wandering no-grownups.”

Buffy refocused, and then winced. With his growing control on the whole werewolf thing, Oz had been noticing some of his wolfish abilities were affecting his human days, too. Which meant he’d probably been able to tell Giles (and, okay, Buffy a little bit too) was enjoying that little back-and-forth a little too much.

How embarrassing.

“The um... well,” Buffy hesitated as her brain got back on track. “The vampires. Where are all the vampires?”

“Right!” Willow realized, though she was still staring between Buffy and Giles with that weird look on her face again. “All these defenseless people!”

“Soup’s on, but no one’s grabbing a spoon,” Buffy nodded as Willow was getting it. She glanced toward Giles again briefly, but then focused on the others.

“Something’s happening... someplace that’s else.” Oz started to understand, too.

“I think it’s the band candy,” Buffy voiced her theory. “I started to suspect it earlier but now...” They all turned to watch two of the greaser guys, who’d been friendly enough a minute ago, now loudly fighting over a chocolate bar. “It must be cursed.”

“Oh, God- ” Snyder sounded like he was doomed. “I’ve got a curse.”

“Oh my God,” Willow sounded almost as equally horrified, “using candy for evil!”

“I’m not cursed!” Giles scoffed. “I’d know if I was cursed.”

“You guys get Xander and Cordelia,” Buffy ordered Willow and Oz. “Go to the library and look it up.”

“Candy curses?” Oz wondered.

“Disturbing second childhood. Got it.” Willow assured her, grabbing her boyfriend’s arm and urging him to run with her back toward the high school.

“What are we gonna do?!” Snyder worried, his voice going all high-pitched, and Buffy took his shoulder and pushed him in the direction they’d been heading.

“We’re still heading to the source,” She informed him.

“Will the vampires be there?” Giles wondered hopefully, “I’m really itchin’ for a fight, or a shag,” He glanced toward her, his expression almost lewd, “And if I’m not gettin’ the shag...”

“Giles!” Buffy pushed at him, although he hadn’t been reaching for her or anything otherwise inappropriate. “Look at yourself! You’re cursed!” She gestured at him, and he frowned as he looked down at himself. “You’re like forty years old, not sixteen! And you  _ don’t _ talk to me about- about  _ shagging _ !” She did her best not to blush.

He seemed to mull over that for a moment.

“Bloody hell, I am cursed.” He groaned.

**... ... ...**

It was easy to find the right building once they got to the docks; there was a crowd of people all shouting excitedly as a few vampires tossed bars of chocolate off the loading bay and into the crowd.

“Oh, yeah! Let’s boogie!” Snyder crowed gleefully and disappeared into the mass of people immediately. Buffy let him go, but grabbed onto Giles’ arm when he made to follow.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this!” He fussed at her. “I want more candy and I’m going to get more candy! I’m your Watcher so  _ you’re _ supposed to do what  _ I _ say, and I say sod off!”

“ _ Giles _ ,” Buffy rolled her eyes, fed up with him. “We  _ just _ talked about this! The. Candy. Is. Cursed.”

“Well- ...well... well- ” He pouted, deflating. “I don’t care. I like it.” It was obvious a part of him did care, though. He stopped pulling against her so determinedly.

“Hey,” Buffy gave him a hopeful half-smile. “There’s two vampires up there. Wanna help me take ‘em out?”

“Fuckin’ hell right I do!” He brightened visibly, bouncing on his toes, and followed her as she pushed her way through the crowd and then climbed up onto the loading ramp.

It took him a few more punches than her, but soon enough they’d knocked out both vampires.

“Damn,” Giles cursed with feeling. “Forgot a bloody stake.”

“Hey! Brit-Face!” Snyder called out to them, surprising them with a broken piece of wooden pallet. “Will this do?”

Buffy was kind of impressed how easily Giles caught the makeshift stake, and then turned and dusted his vamp in one motion.

“Here you are, luv,” He tossed the piece of wood in her direction and she took care of her vampire as well. He grinned, bright-eyed as he watched her. “Always love watchin’ you work.” He told her with a cheeky smile, and she rolled her eyes at him as she shouldered her way through the door and into the warehouse proper.

She was  _ not _ turned on by that. Or blushing. Not at all.

The place was eerily silent, partially packed boxes still open on an abandoned assembly line, and an uncountable number of boxes stacked floor to ceiling, ready for shipment. There had to have been enough chocolate here for the entire population of Los Angeles.

“It smells so chocolatey,” Snyder murmured in amazement, having followed them inside.

“This is far out,” Giles sounded equally amazed, in his own way.

There was a man, standing alone, talking on the phone a few feet away. His back was to them, but Buffy was ninety-eight percent sure she recognized him. When he spoke, she was definitely sure she recognized him.

She should have known.

“Yeah, I've been out there. Town’s wide open. You guys can go anytime.”

“Ethan Rayne.” Buffy walked up behind him, and he turned slowly, eyeing her and then Giles as he walked up behind her.

“Might wanna hurry,” Ethan added into the phone, before slowly setting it aside.

“Ethan.” Giles greeted with a carefully calm tone of voice.

“Ripper.” Ethan smiled, and then took off. Buffy immediately ran after him, and heard Giles’ footsteps right behind her.

The stacks of chocolates seemed to go on forever, and Buffy wondered if they’d planned on shipping it out to the entire west coast. Ethan was annoyingly wily, darting around corners just out of reach from her.

He seemed to disappear suddenly, and Buffy pulled to a stop, walking silently as she listened for Ethan’s footsteps. Giles skidded to a stop behind her, gasping for breath. He’d impressively been able to keep up with her, but now he was paying for it.

“Where... bloody hell,” He panted.

“That’s what smoking will do to you.” Buffy sassed at him, frowning as she couldn’t pick up on the sound of Ethan’s shoes over Giles’ heavy breathing. “Now be quiet.”

“Well- where’d the bastard go?”

“Shh!” Buffy ordered him, and he looked annoyed but chastised as he tried to quiet his gasps.

Rounding the next corner, there was still no sign or sound of Ethan.

“What?” Giles whispered in annoyed confusion, and for just a second, she heard the skip-thump of a heart that wasn’t his or her own.

Well dang, maybe Giles’ weird training tactics had a point after all.

Approaching the large crate straight ahead, she spun a kick at it, splintering the wood open with the heel of her boot. Ripping the hole wider with her hands, she then reached inside and snagged onto a silk shirt, dragging Ethan into view.

“Look, a box full of farm-fresh chicken.” Buffy mused as Ethan blinked at them. She yanked him the rest of the way out of the box, letting him go to step back and watch him fall in a heap on the ground. “So, Ethan. What are we playing?” She folded her arms across her chest as he slowly got to his feet and brushed himself off. “We’re pretty much in a talk-or-bleed situation, so your call.”

“Hit him.” Giles suggested, his hands on his knees as he tried to recover from their little chase. Buffy glanced back to give him a warning look to be quiet.

“I- I’d just like to point out that this wasn’t my idea,” Ethan defended himself, and Buffy ignored the sounds of Giles’ scoff and his impatient pacing.

“Meaning?”

“Well, I’m subcontracting. It’s Trick you want. I’m just helping him collect a- a tribute.” Ethan explained, as if that made him innocent of all charges. “...For a demon.”

“He’s lying. Hit him!” Giles insisted, and Buffy turned toward him again.

“I don’t think he is, and shut up.”

“You’re  _ my _ Slayer.” Giles protested. “Go knock his teeth down his throat- ”

“Giles!” Buffy warned, and he lowered the finger he’d been pointing at Ethan and stalked away, pouty. Buffy turned back toward Ethan, who looked only vaguely nervous. “What demon?” She asked him.

“I don’t remember.” He replied, shaking his head sadly, and Buffy jabbed her fist out toward his mouth without hesitation, making sure to pull her punch so she didn’t knock him out. “Oof!” He stumbled back against the destroyed crate.

“Yes!” Giles cheered and Buffy turned toward him incredulously just as he thrust his fist into the air. He looked a little sheepish of himself, then, but didn’t stop grinning.

“Lurconis,” Ethan answered quickly, a bit dazed. “Demon named Lurconis.” He swallowed and eyed her warily now. “They wanted a way to get the t-tribute away from people.” He straightened out his shirt again.

“So you’re just diversion-guy?” Buffy figured.

“More than a diversion. They said the tribute was big, so big that the people would never let them take it. People had to be... out of it. And later on, when the candy wore off, they’d blame themselves.” He explained.

“Hence land of the irresponsible,” Buffy muttered, glancing toward Giles again. “So where’s Trick?”

“I- don’t know exactly,”

“Hit him again,” Giles eagerly encouraged, leaning over Buffy’s shoulder, and she lifted her fist at Ethan warningly.

“No I- I- I really don’t know,” Ethan insisted, holding his hand up to stop her. “Delivering the tribute,” He guessed nervously.

“Which brings us to the bonus question,” Buffy lowered her fist but stepped closer to him. “And believe me when I say a wrong answer will cost you all your points.” She could practically  _ hear _ Giles’ gleefulness behind her, and resolutely restrained from turning on him again with yet another warning. His energy was a little catching, much as it annoyed her. “What’s the tribute?” She asked Ethan.

“I don’t know,” Ethan started, and she punched him again, in the stomach this time, sending him to his knees. “I swear, I don’t!” He gritted his teeth as he clutched at a few possible cracked ribs.

“Oo, can I have a turn?” Giles pleaded, bouncing on his toes, and Buffy put an arm across his chest to hold him back.

“No,” Buffy ordered, her eyes on Ethan’s grimace and  _ not _ on Giles’ broad chest. “I have another source. Come on.”

She pseudo-helped Ethan to his feet, then guided him back out of the stacks of chocolate to the main area of the facility, pushing him toward the desk and urging him to stay there with a warning look. She glanced toward Giles as she used the phone to call the library, and appeased that he seemed to be playing around with the electronic equipment instead of digging into another box of candy, she focused on Willow’s voice.

“Right,” She replied to Willow’s question, rubbing her hand against her forehead. “Ow.” She hadn’t noticed she’d been injured. Must’ve been the scuffle with the vampires out front. “Lurconis.”

“Lurconis - a demon,” Willow repeated, probably for the rest of the room’s benefit. “What’s his deal?”

“See if it says anything about a tribute.” Buffy requested.

“A tribute? Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Buffy sighed, giving Ethan an annoyed look. “My source is all tapped out.”

“She whupped you good, huh?” Snyder smirked at Ethan, and then threw a few weird-looking karate punches into the air. “Kah! Pow!” Snyder laughed as he stepped away from the sorcerer. “I can do that. I took Tae Kwon Do at the Y.” He did a couple more stupid moves that Buffy rolled her eyes at, and turned away from.

She was never going to be able to look Snyder in the eye without laughing, after this.

“Are you sure it’s a demon? We’re not finding- ”

“No, no - it’s definitely a demon.” Buffy assured Willow. “A big one.”

“Well, we’ve been looking through a lot of- ”

“I wouldn’t.” Giles’ soft, low warning instinctually had Buffy spinning around, and she realized he had Ethan at gunpoint, who was holding a crowbar aloft in the air in her direction. She beat the warlock across the jaw with the phone in her hand, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, the crowbar clattering out of his hand.

She distractedly handed the phone off to Snyder as she eyeballed Giles warily.

“Giles, where did you get that?” She asked carefully. He was still pointing the gun at Ethan’s head, who was now kneeling in front of him.

“Nicked it off a copper in the crowd outside,” He shrugged, unmoving, and Buffy made a mental note about Giles’ surprisingly good pick-pocketing talents.

“Giles, give me the gun.” She urged seriously. Her Watcher only looked at her, defiance in his eyes. “Giles. Now.”

“He coulda killed you,” He argued. “I oughta kill him.”

“No, you oughta not.” Buffy insisted. “We might still need him.”

She doubted that, but she imagined Giles might hate himself later once he got out of this and realized he’d murdered his old friend.

Nobody moved, for a moment, but thankfully Giles relented and released the hammer before setting the gun into her palm. She flicked the safety back on and tucked the weapon into the back of her pants, turning back to Snyder to get the phone again.

“It’s Willow. She talks too loud and fast.” Snyder grimaced and pushed the phone into Buffy’s hands. She rolled her eyes and brought it up to her ear.

“Uh-huh,” She acknowledged her presence.

“Okay - Oz just found it.” Willow told her, reading aloud, “The tribute to Lurconis is made every thirty years. It- it’s a ritual feeding. And this one’s late, so, you know it’s probably a- a big meal.” She trailed off, and then said, “Oh. Uh... oh. Lurconis eats babies.”

“Come on,” Buffy tossed the phone back into the cradle and grabbed Giles’ hand, heading for the door.

“Wait, what about this guy?” Snyder called out, hovering by Ethan, who was still on the floor rubbing his jaw with one hand and had the other curled against his side.

“Um, find something to tie him up with,” Buffy figured, and Giles pulled free from her, gesturing at Snyder’s askew tie.

“Give me that,” He ordered, and Snyder immediately pulled it out of his collar with mildly trembling hands, watching Giles warily. A part of her was amused and proud that the Principal was so scared of her Watcher.

Buffy stared as Giles grabbed Ethan’s wrists and held them together, knotting the tie around them in some kind of fancy figure eight that seemed to only tighten when Ethan tried to pry his wrists apart.

“Well, Ripper, just like riding a bike, hmm?” Ethan practically purred, grinning, and Giles scowled at him as he forcefully yanked him to his feet.

“You wish,” He scoffed, shoving Ethan at Snyder. “Watch him.”

And with that, he grabbed Buffy’s hand again and led her out the door.

“Never tell me.” Buffy begged him, thinking of the babies that were in danger, to save herself from the images popping up unwarranted in her mind.  _ ‘If this  _ _ were _ _ bondage fun, you  _ _ would _ _ be getting something out of it.’ _ Buffy moaned quietly to herself, disparaging, as she shook her head clear.

The crowd outside had mostly quieted, everyone lounging about together, happily munching on their candy, and they paid the other four no mind as they leapt back down to the asphalt and headed off in the direction of the hospital.

Well, no one except her mother, anyway.

“Hey! Buffy!” Joyce sounded accusatory as she grabbed Buffy’s shoulder and whirled her to a halt.

“Mom, I can’t right now, I- ”

“I  _ knew _ there was something going on!” She accused, glaring at Giles, and Buffy looked between them incredulously before she realized that she and Giles were still holding hands.

She yanked her hand free immediately, and Giles folded his arms across his chest, defensive and defiant.

“Buffy’s my Slayer.” He said arrogantly. “You know that.”

“Yeah and that’s awfully  _ convenient _ for you, isn’t it- ” Joyce narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, heya Joyce,” Snyder huffed, out of breath as he caught up to them, Ethan’s elbow firmly in his grasp.

“Hi, Snyder,” Joyce suddenly smiled, and Buffy grimaced.

“I so do not have time for any of this. Mom - did you bring the car here? Do you have the keys?”

“I’m not letting you borrow the car until you tell me what’s going on right now!” Joyce ordered, the demure moment gone, her tone more pouty than the ‘righteous motherly anger’ Buffy expected.

“There’s a demon that eats babies. I need to get to the hospital.” Buffy informed her succinctly, not wanting to get into another wiggy conversation about she and Giles, and Joyce gaped.

“I’ll drive,” She offered, growing serious, and they all piled into the Jeep, Buffy riding shotgun and the three guys cramming in the seats behind them. Giles leaned forward to look out the front window, his chin practically on Buffy’s shoulder.

“Go straight to Main, it’s faster,” He suggested, and Buffy shook her head.

“There’s an accident; somebody was using the straight-away for drag racing. Head up past the ice-cream place,” Buffy told her mother, who glanced at both of them with something that resembled annoyance, but followed Buffy’s directions.

When they reached the hospital, however, it was too late.

“Something’s really gonna eat those babies?” Joyce wondered sadly, as they looked down into the empty bassinets.

“I think that is  _ so _ wrong.” Snyder lamented, stepping beside her as if to offer her comfort.

“She says she never saw who took them,” Giles announced as he finished arguing with the night-nurse who was supposed to have been on duty. “Dozy cow.”

“I know who took them.” Buffy reminded him.

“Well then let’s do something,” He shrugged. “Let’s find the demon and, and kick the crap out of it.”

“Is that what happens now?” Snyder asked nervously.

“Yeah, if we knew where they were,” Buffy pointed out in frustration.

“‘Lurconis dwells beneath the city, filth to filth.’” Giles suddenly announced thoughtfully, and Buffy paused her pacing, and frowned at him.

“What?”

“Ooh, I know this.” Giles faced her excitedly, and then frowned as well. “Uh... I knew this. ‘Lurconis’ means... ‘glutton’. And we’ll find it, um...” He scratched his head, and Buffy stepped closer to him, hopefully. “In the sewers.” He finally figured out, looking pleased with himself.

“The sewers?” Joyce winced and clutched Snyder’s arm in both hands. Then she glanced down at him, and let him go quickly.

“Uh, good.” Snyder stammered. “You go do that thing with the demon, and I’ll stay here in case the babies, you know, uh... find their way back.” He chewed on his thumbnail anxiously, and Giles gave him a look.

“The babies must be so scared,” Joyce said sadly.

“You filthy little ponce - are you afraid of a little demon?” Giles goaded him, getting in his face a little.

“If you want to splash around in the poo, you’re the filthy one!” Snyder pushed him back, and Giles shoved him in return, and Buffy stepped between them before it could turn really nasty, putting a hand against their chests.

“Okay you know what? Everybody just stop it!” She shouted, and Giles took a half step back but continued to glare at Snyder. “Listen to me.” Buffy looked to Snyder, who at least glanced toward her for a moment before focusing back to Giles again. “I need help, okay? Giles,” She turned to her Watcher, touching his chest again briefly in an effort to focus his attention on her. “I need grown-ups. These babies are gonna die if we don’t act now, okay, and think clearly.”

Giles glanced at her, then gave Snyder another annoyed look, as if to say ‘this isn’t over’, before finally focusing on Buffy.

“There is no room for mistakes. Besides which...” She stared at Giles’ chest, the tee a little more see-through now that he’d sweat in it. “You guys are just wigging me out.” She muttered.

“Sorry.” He grumbled quietly, scuffing his boot against the floor. “We’ll behave.”

“Good.” Buffy softened her tone at him, and then turned toward Snyder and ordered, “Snyder, take Ethan to the police department, make sure he gets locked into a cell, and then go home.”

“I can do that.” He replied with a nod, and then scampered out of there while he had the chance.

“Giles, we’re going to the sewers.” Buffy told him, turning to find him tilting his head at Joyce curiously, who was twirling her hair around her finger and blowing out a large bubble with her gum. Buffy frowned at them and grabbed her Watcher’s arm. “And don’t do that!” She scolded her mother for flirting, who popped the gum and raised her eyebrows, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“So what am I supposed to do while  _ you two _ go off together like you always do?” She pouted.

“Stay here,” Buffy told her, choosing not to comment otherwise on Joyce’s words, “make sure there’s warm bottles and blankets and stuff for the babies when we get back. They’ll need lots of comforting.”

“Well, I am a Mom,” Joyce shrugged proudly, and Buffy gave her careful, earnest smile.

“You’re a great Mom.” She assured her, and Joyce’s smile widened. “C’mon, Giles,” Buffy tugged his arm and hurried to the elevator, intending to take it to the basement. “There’s an access tunnel in the bottom level,”

“What’ve you got against me and your mum?” Giles wondered with mild annoyance as they waited impatiently for the elevator.

“Are you  _ kidding _ ?” Buffy raised her eyebrow at him and folded her arms across her chest. “Besides the fact the two of you don’t actually like each other that much - she’s  _ my mom _ . And  _ you’re _ my  _ Watcher _ .”

“Well,” He huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ve already made your point about the shagging. ‘Least she’s like an older version of you. Wouldn’t be breakin’ the law and all that.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Buffy hissed, stepping into the elevator after the doors opened, avoiding looking at him as she jammed on the button for the basement. “ _ That’s _ your reasoning? She’s a legal version of me?”

He shrugged, looking down at his boots, his brow furrowed deeply as he scuffed his heel on the floor again.

“Give me a chance,” He mumbled quietly, “it’s worth taking.” He lifted his head to look at her.

“It’s not worth  _ jail _ ,” Buffy pointed out desperately. The way he was looking at her, the pure adoration in his eyes, hurt. Hurt because she liked it, really, but she was going to have to turn him down. “I’m seventeen, Giles. And you’re  _ not _ .”

He gave that pause, and sighed morosely, looking ahead at the doors in front of them.

“Right.” He mumbled.

“This curse will wear off soon,” Buffy assured him, reaching out to touch his cheek gently. “And you’ll be back to yourself in no time.”

“Right.” He said again, annoyed. “Suits and a job and  _ lines _ ,”

“Those lines are important, Giles.” Buffy raised her eyebrow. She lowered her hand and took a step away from him. “Besides, you and me, we’re not like that. We’re friends. Good friends, I think... or getting there, anyway. I wanna keep that a thing.”

“Good friends could lead to more,” He reasoned, facing her, and Buffy glanced away from him.

“Sixteen-year-old boys only ever think about one thing,” She let out a breath. “But I want what adult-Giles thinks about. I like adult-Giles.”

“Well maybe adult-Giles thinks about, about... ‘bondage fun’, more than you think.” Giles challenged, stepping closer to her, and she stepped back, soon hitting the wall of the elevator that suddenly felt entirely too small of a space to be alone with him in. “And- and let’s not forget you’re not so  _ seventeen _ really, either!”

“Don’t do that,” Buffy said, almost more of a plea than the order that she meant. “Don’t make me think more things about you when we’re gonna have to go back to being partners.”

“More things?” Giles repeated, raising his eyebrow, slowly closing in on her. She winced, not having meant to say that part aloud. “Why’d you leave, last night? While we were training? What made you leave so fast?”

“Giles,” She shook her head, and he slowly lifted his hands up to rest them on the wall behind her, near either side of her head. “It was just,” She mentally scrambled, overwhelmed by the scent of him and the heat of him surrounding her. Sweaty, a little chocolatey (how much of that had he eaten, for the smell of it to be coming from his pores???), a little grossly like cigarette smoke, but a lot like Giles.

A  _ lot _ like Giles.

“Uncontrollable teenage hormones!” Buffy blurted loudly, opening her eyes when she realized she’d closed them. She was startled to find his face so close to hers, their noses almost touching, but she didn’t move. “Much like- like what- what you’re experiencing now.” They both stood very still for a moment. “It’s just hormones, Giles.” Buffy whispered.

She was such a liar.

He closed his eyes, and tilted his head down so that his forehead lightly rested against hers. He breathed heavily through his nose, like a resigned sigh, and Buffy held her breath.

“You’re still my Slayer, right?” He eventually questioned, worried and hopeful.

“Always,” Buffy replied lightly, though seriously. Needing to assure him, and herself, that there was love even if it wasn’t - if it  _ couldn’t _ be - the kind of love he thought he wanted, Buffy shifted her head to touch her lips against his cheek. He was a little scruffy with end-of-day stubble, but he was warm, and she lingered there as he held his breath in surprise.

He seemed to relax, and after another few shared breaths, he pulled away from her and took his place back in front of the doors. Buffy straightened but stayed where she was, both of them quiet until the elevator signaled its arrival and the doors let them free into the basement.

Neither of them paid any notice to the deep, finger-shaped dents left in the metal bar behind them.

**... ... ...**

Buffy dreaded walking into the library the following day, but she knew that was one bullet that needed biting. Better sooner rather than later.

If only she could forget the image of a dripping wet Giles, t-shirt and trousers clinging to skin like-

“Buffy!” He looked up from behind the counter and noticed her immediately, sounding pleased to see her, and she hesitantly smiled at him.

Tweed, practically head-to-toe. God, how that relieved her.

“How are you?” He wondered, stepping around to greet her, grabbing a mug from the counter to hand to her.

“Um... thanks?” She took it hesitantly, surprised by its warmth, as he reached for the other mug by the computer and gestured her over to the center table. “How’d you know I was coming?”

“I... I’d hoped,” He admitted nervously, and settled into the chair across from her, fiddling with his glasses for a moment. Then he removed them, and said, “I think we need to talk.”

“Giles, really,” She started to assure him otherwise, but he shook his head.

“I just want you to know... I wouldn’t... I mean, I didn’t...” He paused when his stammering got the better of him, and took a drink of his tea. More calmly, he began again, “I would have- back then, when I went by- by Ripper, I mean- I was quite...” Giles sighed deeply, and rubbed his fingers against his nose. “I would have said anything to, to, ehm... be with a woman I might’ve fancied.”

Buffy didn’t respond immediately, breathless at the clear-headed, verbal proof that sixteen-year-old Giles would have fancied her. Did fancy her?

How much did that translate to adult Giles?

“Once told a girl I was a founding member of Pink Floyd,” Giles admitted with a laugh, and Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. He cleared his throat. “A- anyway... I’m... sorry for all of that.” Giles wouldn’t lift his gaze away from his mug of tea, far too embarrassed with himself. “That’s... a part of me that no longer exists,”

“Oh, I’d say a bit of him still exists in there,” Buffy replied with a quirk of her lip, and Giles glanced up at her quickly before ducking his head again. “It’s... okay, Giles. It was the candy. I get it. No harm, no foul.”

He seemed relieved by her words, but still incredibly embarrassed, so she figured she’d give him some space.

“I’ll... meet you here later? For patrol?” She half questioned, and he nodded, his expression relieved as he looked up to meet her eyes.

“I’ll be here,” He promised. “Let me- let me walk you to the car?” He offered, getting to his feet and putting his glasses back on. “I’d like to hear about the SAT’s,”

She smiled and gave him a little nod, standing back up as well. Her smile fell as soon as he went to his office to grab his jacket, though.

Giles could blame his actions on the candy, but Buffy had no one to blame for her crush but herself.

“I’m in trouble.” She groaned.


	5. Chapter 04 (Amends)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A certain part of this chapter is also dedicated to 51kas81 and reads-randomly, for a certain gifset creation that magically fits perfectly with this chapter. :D

Eventually telling the rest of the gang about Angel ‘living’ again hadn’t been easy, but it helped to have Giles at her side. Xander was pretty pissy for a while that Giles could be so easily forgiving, considering everything that had happened to him, but Giles had fired back that it hadn’t been easy at all. It was a harsh conversation that ended with Xander reluctantly coming around, and Buffy hoping that she never heard Giles use that tone of voice ever again.

While the vampire wasn’t ‘feral’ any longer, he was far more broody than even usual, and there were times Buffy thought he looked downright terrified. He wouldn’t talk to her about what was going on, but Buffy knew he was troubled about being back. He didn’t understand why - none of them did.

Wanting to prove that they trusted Buffy again, even if they were still wary of Angel, Willow and Xander offered to help on the research front. They were beyond Acathla now; trying to figure out what sort of thing could have the power to bring him back from the demon dimension, and why it would.

Once Buffy realized she and Angel were having shared dreams, that narrowed the list of evil beings down a bit, but the gang was still spending long hours in the library together, during a Christmas holiday that should’ve been more relaxing than this. Buffy blamed the subject of her dream on that. It certainly wasn’t her  _ own _ subconscious that led her to thinking about… 

_ L.A., again. She walked into the door, and turned as Giles helped her take her coat off, his head tilted down close to hers. She leaned her back against his chest, and felt the pleased noise he made. He was wearing only his t-shirt and trousers, and he was warm. _

_ “How was patrol?” He nuzzled her cheek, then brushed his mouth lightly over her neck, continually moving toward her shoulder, his hands pushing the collar of her shirt out of the way first. She meanwhile worked on unbuttoning it, so that she could drop it to the floor as she turned to face him. _

_ “It was fine,” She replied casually, the hint of her smile anything but as she walked backwards toward the bedroom, leading him. _

_ “Did any get away?” He asked as he watched her intently, walking after her. _

_ “Of course not.” Buffy huffed, pretend-haughty, and he grinned. _

_ “That’s my Slayer,” He murmured proudly, pressing up against her and kissing her deeply, until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the mattress. _

_ They undressed one another as they lay together against the pillows, hands and mouths familiar, adoring. She carded her fingers into his hair and moaned as he moved above her, all hard and soft in just the right places, his muscles showing themselves as he playfully wrestled with her a little and rolled them over until she was on top. _

_ Buffy laughed as she sat up, pushing her hair back from her face, smiling down at the pleased amusement on his own face as she braced a hand on his chest. His heart was pounding, his skin flushed and damp, and she loved it. She made him respond this way and every time it was like a brand new revelation - _

_ “Buffy?” He sounded curious, and she grinned as she lowered again to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his waist to roll them back over. _

_ “Like this,” She requested in a whisper, nipping at his earlobe because she knew it would make him shudder. _

_ He did, and as he slowly pushed inside her, his lips feathered over hers and across her chin, along her jaw and down her neck. Buffy shifted her head to the side, baring more skin for him, and he tucked his face against her pulse intent to leave a hickey that would last for days even with her Slayer healing. _

_ Buffy opened her eyes as she gasped with pleasure, and met the dark, unblinking stare of Angel, standing by the door on the other side of the room. _

“Buffy?”

Buffy gasped awake, breathless and wide-eyed as she darted her gaze around the room. Bookshelves, discarded books, carpet… the library. She’d fallen asleep. She sat up and quickly pushed her hands through her hair, waiting for her pulse to settle before snagging her shoes and getting to her feet.

What the  _ hell _ had  _ that _ been? Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten so many pepperoni’s on that last slice of pizza…

“Hey Buffy,” Giles greeted her as he crossed from his office toward the big table, “take a look.” He moved a chair out of the way and laid out a few sheets of paper, setting his book off to the side.

She swallowed as she glanced at his suspenders, his trousers, his mussed-up research-hair. Forcefully pushing the lingering confusion and heat of her dream away, along with the brief flash memory of Ripper-Giles, she quietly sidled up next to him to see what he had been looking at.

“These letters contain references to a- an ancient power known as The First.” He tugged the end of his glasses out of his mouth and pushed his hand through his hair, and Buffy glanced at him distractedly.

“First what?” Research-Giles was kind of… yummy… 

“Evil. Absolute evil; older than man, than demons… it could’ve had the power to bring Angel back.”

Buffy frowned as she took in what he was saying - that didn’t sound like some Christmas-y fun at all, and her thoughts quickly sobered. Then her eyes caught a sketch on one of the letters, and she shuffled it out of the stack.

“These guys, I-I saw them in my dream, I- fell asleep… up there.” She trailed off as he met her gaze, and looked away from him again, hoping to God she wasn’t blushing noticeably.

“You had another dream?” He was both concerned and fascinated; predictable Watcher-Giles. “With Angel?”

Buffy looked up at him sharply, internally panicking. Giles; warm, rumpled Giles… She half-nodded, barely breathing.

“What happened?” Giles encouraged her to elaborate. She thought of the sound of his voice rumbling with pleasure.

“Oh, we don’t need to get side-tracked,” Buffy barely managed to say, tearing her eyes away from his and staring back down at the letter in her hands, reminding herself to breathe. It was bad enough Angel knew what she’d dreamt about. There was no way she was telling Giles. “Wh-who are these guys?” She asked about the sketch.

“Um, they’re known as the uh, as the Bringers.” Giles explained as he sat down in one of the chairs. “Or, or Harbingers. They’re high priests of The First, they uh, they can conjure spirit manifestations and set them on people, to influence them, haunt them.” He rubbed his face tiredly, the long hours of research finally catching up to him, too.

“These are the guys working the mojo on Angel?” Buffy figured, and Giles nodded in agreement.

“We gotta stop ‘em.” Xander announced, appearing from Giles’ office, and they both turned to look at him with surprise. Xander gave her a nod of assurance - he had her back on this one.

“You can’t fight The First, Buffy, it’s not a- a physical being.” Giles told her, rubbing his head again, his brow furrowed at the road-block they’d hit.

“Well, I can fight these priest guys,” Buffy pointed out, desperate to end this weird dream-sharing before it got any worse… if it  _ could _ get any worse.

“If we can find ‘em.” Xander agreed.

“I highly doubt they’re hanging out at the local church,” Giles sassed, and Buffy frowned thoughtfully as she tugged her shoes back on.

“But you know who does know all the demon-y and otherwise evil comings and goings of this town?” She realized, raising her eyebrow at Xander, and he nodded seriously as he followed her thinking.

“Willy.”

“Come with me,” Buffy suggested to him, and then glanced toward Giles again. “Get some sleep, maybe?” She kindly offered. “While Xander and I figure out what we can about these Bringers.”

Giles nodded sheepishly, but as Buffy rounded his chair to head out, he grasped her arm.

“Be careful?” He requested softly, and Buffy froze at the weight of his hand and the tenderness of his voice.

“Sure. Yeah. You know me.” She sent him a shaky smile and tried not to leave too quickly after his hand drifted away, glad that she was wearing long sleeves so neither of the guys would notice the goose-bumps that erupted across her skin.

**... ... ...**

While she was bummed about the other roadblock she and Xander hit at Willy’s bar, she agreed that he had a point about making with the merry. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and there wasn’t anything else they could do until they figured out how to find the Bringers. That meant more reading, tomorrow - but for now, Buffy would try and have a good time with her mom.

And Faith.

“Okay, Mom, but don’t touch yours yet ‘cause then you’re gonna know what it is!” Buffy called down the stairs as she skipped to her room for the presents she’d hidden there. Faith was here, and maybe they sort of made up, and suddenly Christmas was really starting to look alright after all -

Her bedroom door slammed shut behind her, and she jumped and spun around, dread pooling in her veins as Angel stared at her from the corner of her room.

He didn’t look too good. Plus, the last time she ‘saw’ him, she’d been… well… ‘with’ Giles. In a dream and all, but still.

“Angel.” She greeted nervously.

He looked… confused, to say the least. Angry? Annoyed? Hurt? She blinked and stood very still.

“Buffy…” He swallowed and licked his lips nervously, not quite meeting her eyes for very long.

“What is it?” She asked him, wondering if maybe she could play it off. Maybe he didn’t know about the shared dreams, maybe she could pretend… what, that  _ he’d _ had the dream about her getting it on with Giles? Yeah, right.

“Look, I- I… I uh, I had to see you, um,” He squeezed his eyes closed for a second and frowned deeply, and Buffy pressed her lips together as she tried not to wince too noticeably. “I don’t know, I… ”

“Angel,”

“You shouldn’t be…” He stared at her, still frowning hard, and Buffy winced again, figuring he was talking about Giles.

“It was just… it was just a dream, Angel, it wasn’t… ” Buffy really did not want to talk about it, especially not with him. His brow twitched, in annoyance. “Look, Angel, something is doing this to you. Making you see things, making you think… you just have to control it, okay?”

He slowly inched toward her, and she just as slowly inched back. He wasn’t Angelus and he wasn’t feral, but he was definitely looking pissed, now.

“I- I know that you’re confused,”

“I think you’re the one who’s confused,” Angel whispered, something like a smirk on his face, and Buffy clenched her fists tightly as she willed herself to stay calm. She didn’t want to have to hurt him, not again, but if it came to protecting her mother downstairs… and Faith… she wouldn’t give him the opportunity to hurt her friends and family again. She couldn’t, not even if it was because something else was controlling him.

She might have loved him deeply once, but at the end of the day he was still a vampire. She wasn’t blinded about that any longer.

Angel clenched his hands against his head, shaking as he attempted to fight off whatever it was he was seeing or thinking.

“Let me help you,” Buffy offered, but suddenly he snarled at her - or at something else - to leave him alone and he bounded out of her open window, disappearing into the night.

Buffy stared into the space he’d been standing in, blinking as adrenaline coursed through her. He’d almost gone game-face just then, and she had a feeling it couldn’t be only from the recent dream they’d unfortunately shared. He was dealing with something else, something far more serious.

She quickly changed into more appropriate Slayage clothes and grabbed her coat before bounding down the stairs, meeting Faith in the living room before her Mom returned from the kitchen.

“Angel was here,” She didn’t have time to skirt around it, “and he almost attacked me. There’s some evil thing that’s trying to drive him crazy, maybe turn him into Angelus again.”

“What!” Faith exclaimed, her shoulders stiffening and her eyes growing sharp. “We need to do something about him, Buffy, you cannot let him- ”

“I know, Faith.” Buffy interrupted her firmly, speaking honestly. “I need you to look after my Mom, while I- ”

“No way! You aren’t doing this on your own!”

“Look,” Buffy gripped her arm, urging her to keep her voice down, “I’m not risking Angelus again. He’ll be defensive if we all go in guns blazing. I  _ need _ to do this on my own. I just need you to stay with Mom, in case he comes back.” She let her go, and they shared a nod before Buffy hurried to the door.

“Yeah, I’ll play watchdog,” Faith promised, following her to the door. “I don’t really get it, though,”

“I’ll explain later,” Buffy assured her. “Everything. I promise.”

“Watch your back!” Faith called out after her, and when she reached the sidewalk she turned toward Giles’ place.

There was no better person she trusted to do that.

**... ... ...**

She joined him on the stairs as they read together. Even after the difficult but necessary conversation about possibly needing to kill Angel again, being nearer to Giles was comforting.

Maybe that’s what her dream had been about. Just comfort, and, her loneliness just sort of made it… way extra cuddly. Buffy pursed her lips at herself, remembering how close she’d come to kissing Ripper-Giles in that elevator. ‘Just comfort’ - right.

“Yes. Ah,” Giles mumbled, startling her from her reverie. She twisted on the step to face him.

“Priests?” She wondered hopefully.

“Um… yes, but uh, m-more posturing I’m afraid.” He read aloud, “For they are the Harbingers of Death, nothing shall grow above or below them. No seed shall flower, neither in man nor…” He trailed off and gestured that it went on pretty much the same. “They’re rebels and they’re never ever be any good,” He grumbled, glancing over at her as he summarized in more Buffy-like terms. She would have smiled at him for that, but she was too busy trying to figure out why the reading had sparked something in her brain. “Nothing specific about their haunts.” He sighed as he looked back toward the text.

“Let me see that,” Buffy requested, needing to see the words with her own eyes. It was right there, just out of reach… “The Harbingers of Death… Nothing shall grow, above or below…”

The Christmas trees, dying out without the owner’s understanding. Buffy raised her head as he realized.

“What?” Giles wondered, seeing that she was onto something.

“Stay here,” Buffy ordered him, sliding the book back into his lap and getting to her feet. He fumbled with it for a second, but then stood to follow her as she went for her coat. “If Angel is out and about and too far gone in his head… we’ve talked about this,” Buffy gave Giles’ furrowed brow a look, as she buttoned her coat closed and secured the tie around the front. “He doesn’t want to hurt me, but if he sees you, he might not hesitate.”

Giles just didn’t know the details of why that might be.

“Where are you going?” Giles wondered, setting the book on his desk as he watched her step toward the door.

“Mom and I were shopping for trees the other day; there was a whole section of them totally dead. All the other trees were fine, though, so that’s gotta be where the priests are.” Buffy explained. She gave him a quick, relieved smile. “Thank you, Giles, for helping me.” As she opened the door, he called out,

“Buffy,” but he hesitated when she faced him again. He worked his jaw, his eyes expressing his worry for him, and Buffy stepped closer to grab his hand for a second.

“I’ll be careful.” She promised. He gave her hand a squeeze, and then she let go and hurried out of the apartment.

**... ... ...**

A ghost of The First or not, Buffy still hadn’t shaken Jenny from her mind when she finally found Angel on the top of the hill. He was just standing there, by himself, but she wondered if he was seeing anyone else’s ghost. She thought it best to announce herself, just in case, and she hovered a few arm’s lengths away from him.

“Angel.”

“...I bet half the kids down there are already awake.” He mused, gazing out over the neighborhood. “Lying in their beds, sneaking downstairs, waiting for day.” He sounded much more calm than he had in her bedroom earlier, but she knew better than to entirely trust that.

“Angel, please,” Buffy approached him slowly. She was pretty sure all of the Bringers were taken care of, at least for now, but she couldn’t speak for the mood that their work had left Angel in. “You need to get inside. There’s only a few minutes left.”

“I know. I can smell the sunrise long before it comes.” He wouldn’t look at her.

“You have to trust me - that thing that was haunting you, it’s - ”

“It wasn’t haunting me.” He interrupted, turning toward her. She froze, within reaching distance of him now, but he didn’t seem to be struggling against the demon inside of him at the moment. Not the literal one, anyhow. “It was showing me.”

“Showing you?”

“What I am.”

“Were.” Buffy argued immediately. If he started thinking that he was still Angelus, that he would always be Angelus, then that might likely bring the demon forth regardless of any Romanian curses.

“And ever shall be.” He added, ignoring her interruption. “I wanted to know why I was back - now I do.” He looked more tortured than ever, and Buffy frowned at him.

“You don’t know! Some great evil takes credit for bringing you back, and you buy it? You just give up?” It was one thing for Angel to spend eternity in a hell dimension in exchange for saving the world - but now? Just for some self-pity and a narcissistic sense of doom and gloom? Buffy refused to accept that. Her heart wasn’t Angel’s anymore but that didn’t mean she’d still stand by and let him kill himself. She still cared about him.

“I can’t do it again, Buffy. I can’t become a killer.”

“Then fight it.”

“It’s too hard.” He grumbled, turning away from her again. “Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “Seeing you with him, like that, I can’t,”

“With who? What are you talking about?” Buffy was lost in the conversation, now, still focused on the impending sunrise. “Angel, please, you have to get inside.”

“With  _ Giles _ !” He shouted, dismayed.

“It was just a dream, Angel!” Buffy insisted, incredulous again.

“Why are you dreaming about him?” Angel challenged her, turning toward her again.

“I don’t know!” She didn’t, really, but she was kind of starting to have an idea.

Angel snorted, as if he didn’t believe her.

“Angel, please - don’t you think this is wigging me out, too?” Buffy spoke anxiously, both for the sunrise quickly approaching and for talking about this particular topic out loud. “Because it is! Seriously wigging me out! I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know why- why I- this- ” She threw her hands into the air, at a loss.

“I was in your head, Buffy!” Angel exclaimed. “Just a dream?! You know what his skin feels like, what he smells like!”

“That isn’t because-!”

“It told me to kill you. To lose my soul in you, and become a monster again.” Angel glared, pointing his finger at her. “And you know what? I wanted to. I wanted to make you fall for me again, to  _ fuck _ you, knowing that it’ll cost me my soul. A part of me doesn’t care - because that would give me the perfect excuse to find Giles again and  _ rip his goddamn throat out _ .”

Angel twisted away as he clenched his fists and snarled, and Buffy took a step away from him, shocked by his emotion, and his admission. She wasn’t afraid of Angel, exactly, but she was suddenly quite afraid for Giles.

“Look, I’m weak.” He sounded more calm again, but resolved. “I’ve never been anything else. It’s not the demon in me that needs killing, Buffy. It’s the man.” He sniffed, and turned away from her again.

“So you’re weak. Everybody is. Everybody fails. Maybe this evil did bring you back, but if it did, it’s because it needs you. And that means that you can hurt it.” She had to make him see that there was nothing noble about his decision to let himself burn. “Angel, you have the power to do real good, to make amends. But if you die now then all that you  _ ever _ were was a monster.”

He didn’t immediately respond to that.

“Angel, please, the sun- ”

“Just go.”

“I won’t.”

“You think there’s an easy answer to this? ‘Make amends’? You can never understand what I’ve done! Now go.”

“You are not staying here. I won’t let you!”

“Leave me alone!” Angel scuffled with her, and she pushed him off, then he knocked her to the ground. “Am I a thing worth saving, huh? Am I a righteous man?” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, and she squeezed her eyes closed for a second against the emotion on his face. “The world wants me gone.”

He wasn’t Angelus, but this still hurt. She couldn’t kill him, not like this, and she couldn’t let him kill himself either.

“What about me?” She grimaced in his tight hold, meeting his teary gaze with tears of her own. He let her go roughly, and stepped back, wiping at his face. Buffy scooted on her elbows back a few more feet away from him. “I loved you so much. And I tried to make you go away. I killed you and it didn’t help. And I hate it!” She got to her feet, stalking toward him to shove him back, her anger overriding her fear. “I hate that it’s so hard, and that you can still hurt me so much.” She pushed him again. “I know everything that you did, because you did it to me.”

He winced and dropped his head.

“You did it to my friends, to the people that I love. Oh, God - I  _ wish _ that I wished you dead.” She shook her head at him, angrily wiping her sleeve across her face. “I don’t. I can’t.”

“Buffy… please. Let me be strong.” Angel begged, and she frowned again.

“Strong is  _ fighting _ . It’s hard, and it’s painful, and it’s every day. It’s what we have to do.” It’s what she did, going out and killing demons that wore the faces of someone that used to be human once. It’s what Giles did, still waking and living in that apartment where Jenny’s body had been left for him like some morbid art piece. It’s what Willow did, fighting to keep the guy she loved even when she knew it was her own fault he no longer trusted her. It was what Xander did, walking into school with a joke and a smile even after having to spend the previous evening with his drunk parents… 

Everyone had their battles to be fought, to be survived, to be won.

“If you really still love me as much as you say you do, if even I can’t convince you that you belong in this world, then I don’t know what can.” Buffy swallowed down her tears and stepped away from him.

“You expect me to stay here, watch you from afar without ever being able to be with you?” Angel squinted at her. “That’s torture in of itself, Buffy - and if you expect me to just- I can’t- I- I’ll kill him.”

“Who? Giles?” She stared at him in confusion. “Why? Because of one dream?”

“Because it was more than that.” Angel sounded calm again, like he’d given up. “The way he was with you. The way it was…” He gestured around them vaguely. “Simple. Peaceful.” He grimaced. “Lit with the morning sun.”

“Fine, don’t stay here.” Buffy threw her hands in the air, frustrated, desperate to avoid the way her heart wanted to agree with his description. “There’s evil all over the world that needs fighting. But for the last time, me and Giles- ” Buffy cut herself off, realizing that she was feeling snowflakes against her cheeks and eyelashes. Angel seemed to notice it at the same time, and slowly the both of them looked up into the sky. At the horizon, the sun wasn’t to be seen, and the clouds hanging low above them began to produce heavier snow.

For many moments they stood in silence together, in awe of the weather.

“Looks like maybe the world wants you here, after all.” Buffy noted softly, and Angel slowly met her gaze. They blinked at each other, emotions settling with the snowfall, and Angel heaved a heavy sigh.

“I need some time, Buffy.” He told her, taking a step in the direction of the mansion.

“For what?” Buffy asked hesitantly, still worried.

“To get used to you loving someone else.” He murmured, and she blinked owlishly.

Did he still mean  _ Giles _ ?

“I don’t love someone else!” She protested hotly, feeling the hot blush under her collar. Maybe there was a confused bit of crushing going on, but that was  _ it _ . Just weird teenage hormones for a dear friend, like- like Willow and Xander.

“But you don’t love me.” Angel pointed out, and her silence at that was telling. “I’m going home. I promise I won’t… do anything rash. Just don’t come by anymore, okay? I’ll find you when I need you.”

“...Okay.” She promised quietly to his retreating back.

She waited until he disappeared from view, and then turned to face the slowly-waking town, thinking. She did love Giles, but not like  _ that _ ... but she was starting to consider that she could, one day. Maybe. Her feelings for her Watcher were just too confusing these days, especially after the way he’d been with her while under the influence of that candy.

She stood there on the hill until her fingers started feeling cold, before she headed down back into town.

Strolling slowly along main street, she marvelled at the quiet beauty that muffled everything, even her own steps. A few people were starting to notice the phenomenon, darting outside in hastily thrown on coats and hats, laughing in amazement. There was no tingling in her gut warning her of vampires; they were all deep underground.

They weren’t fans of the snow, she guessed, and slowly a smile adorned her face. Maybe Christmas could actually be an okay holiday this year after all.

Remembering what Xander had said about camping outside, she went by his house first, finding him huddled in his sleeping bag and covered in snow, gaping at the sky. Startling him, she grabbed up two handfuls and tossed them at him.

“Let’s go find the others,” She suggested after they had a small snow-fight, and he brightened up lighter than she’d seen in quite a while. She helped him gather his stuff back into the house, and he gave her an extra pair of gloves to borrow, and then they were off to Willow’s, kicking and throwing snow around like kids.

Oz was at Willow’s house, too, and Buffy was finally completely convinced of the magical properties of snow after she saw the easy way that he joined in, and how all five of them wrestled a bit in the soft powder with no animosity or discomfort between them.

They would all be okay - even Angel. She was sure of it.

The gang quickly tired of their play-fight and decided to walk through the neighborhood, admiring everyone’s Christmas decorations without the threat of a vampire sneaking up on them in the dark. Before she knew it, they were standing in front of Giles’ apartment.

“Think he’s awake?” Oz wondered, his teeth chattering a bit. He stamped his feet and rubbed his hands together. The layer of cold wet was starting to seep through their clothes and not be so much fun anymore.

“His light’s on,” Willow reasoned, gesturing toward the living room window that faced the front.

“He has tea. Warmth. Comfort. Let’s knock.” Xander decided, hopping forward and rapping his knuckles in a light-hearted jaunt against the door.

Warmth. Giles.

Buffy sucked in a breath and held it, clenching her fists as she forced her brain not to go there. She’d be glad when that dream of hers became a distant memory.

“Hello,” Giles greeted them softly, seemingly not surprised to find them there, huddled at his door and covered in snow. He looked at each of them individually, his little smile growing wider until he finally landed on Buffy, and when she returned a tiny smile and nod of her own, his shoulders relaxed fully in relief. He chuckled gently at them, then, and opened the door wider. “Knock off some of that snow, and leave your shoes outside,” He told them. “I’ll start the kettle.”


	6. Chapter 05 (Helpless)

“Buffy, I need to discuss something with you.” Giles appeared beside her just as she’d closed her locker door.

“Now?” She whined. “But it's free period and Xander and I were gonna go raid the vending- ”

“Yes, now.” Giles practically snapped, and Buffy gave him a double-take. She realized that he looked incredibly on edge, trying and very much failing to hide some serious amounts of worry.

“Okay.” She replied in a more agreeable tone, gentle. She turned toward Xander, “I’ll meet up with you later?”

“Sure, Watcher-Slayer stuff, I get it.” Xander replied as he slung his books under his arm. “See you guys later.”

Giles was quiet, and pensive, as he walked with Buffy to the library. She kept darting worried glances at him, but he didn’t seem to notice, and didn’t attempt any conversation until they were out of the halls.

"Giles, what's going on?" His mannerisms were putting her on edge as well, too much for her to tease him about acting like he had a stick up his butt.

"Come with me, there's a- a book I'd like to show you,"

He took her elbow in hand and guided her up to the second level with him, back into the stacks where she hardly ever went usually.

"We must speak quietly," He informed her in a low tone, leading her into a back corner.

"You're scaring me." She told him seriously. He hadn't worried her like this since the whole Eyghon mess.

"The Council is here, in town, and they are listening." Giles told her, and she furrowed her brow at him.

"Huh?"

"They're monitoring you, they're- they will be, until- I," He grimaced at himself and let her go, turning away to push his fingers through his hair roughly.

His agitation was not helping her level of concern, at all. He was starting to remind her a little too much of Ripper, right now. Covertly, she glanced to his pockets and sniffed the air, trying to ascertain if he’d somehow come across more of those stupid chocolate bars.

"Listen to me." He turned back toward her, and put his hands on her shoulders. "There is... a test, coming."

"A test?" Buffy groaned. "I get enough tests from this place! Now I'm getting one from the Council, too?"

"Keep your voice down." He ordered, and his tone made her comply more than anything. "This isn't a multiple choice question and answer, or an essay on demonology. It's a test of your very being, your mind, your skills."

"Oh." Buffy thought about that, and perked up a little. "Sounds fun, actually."

"It isn't fun." He replied gravely, and her smile fell. He was scared of something.

"Is it Eyghon, again?" She whispered worriedly, subconsciously reaching up to touch the back of her neck.

She hadn't been able to get the tattoo removed; something about the magical inherent properties kept the process from working properly. But Willow had found a way to hide it, to make it invisible to the eye of those who didn't already know about it - which saved her a butt-load of hell from her mother.

"No," Giles' soothed his voice a little, but then hesitated. "At least, I don't imagine so; it is normally a vampire. But I'm not sure what monster they've decided to send after you."

"Send after me?" Buffy repeated shrilly, barely managing to remember to keep her voice in a relative whisper. "The Council is sending a monster after me? What the hell did I do?!"

"Nothing, Buffy. You've done nothing at all," Giles scowled deeply, and let go of her. "Except live to eighteen."

Buffy was more confused than ever. Whatever was going on, Giles was obviously not a fan of it at all.

"I can’t keep this from you, not after all that we’ve… It’s- it's called the _Tento di Cruciamentum_. A Slayer is- is tested, usually against a particularly dangerous vampire. Without her powers."

"What?" Buffy tensed. "Without- how? How is that- are they gonna take my Slayerness from me? Can they even do that?"

"The Cruciamentum has been done for centuries." Giles confirmed, still very grave. "To any Slayer that makes it to eighteen. The Council uses it to test her problem-solving skills, her… creativity- if she can use more than mere b-brute force to her leverage."

"This sounds _dangerous_ ," Buffy protested. "Putting me in a ring with a vampire without my powers? A super-vampire? I mean, what the hell?"

"It's archaic," Giles spat angrily, pacing a little away from her. "It's disgusting. It's- it's- it's _cruel_." He suddenly shrugged off his coat as if it were stifling him, and he threw it to the ground. Buffy stared at it, and then at him.

"Giles..." In the flash of a blink she was reminded of a dream she had been doing her best not to ever think about again, and she swallowed as she dug her nails into her palms, forcing her mind to stay focused.

"They want me to do it, Buffy." He stopped his pacing and faced her, but still stood more than an arm's length away. "They want me to put you through this. They _demand_ it of me."

“Well… I mean, technically I’m way past eighteen, right? After being in that demon world? So I’m like, exempt, right?” She tried, and Giles shook his head.

“I only wish it were that literal, Buffy. It’s a … ‘right of passage’, so to speak.” He spat the words angrily. “If they’ve read my journals, they know about y-your time in the demon dimension. It doesn’t matter to them - the date of your eighteenth birthday is coming up and that is when the test is performed.”

"Tell me more about it," Buffy urged, trying to guide him back on normal brainy Giles track and less emotional Giles track - which always seemed to lead to Ripper. He shook his head, though he did answer her,

"I inject you with an organic compound of muscle relaxants and adrenal suppressors. It will make you weak and slow you down and then I must let them lock you in a room with a powerful vampire. What more do you want to know? That I'm also supposed to lie to you about this entire test, to bloody _hypnotise_ you, so you don't even know any of this is happening? So that you’ll assume the loss of powers might be _your_ doing, or perhaps just a bad case of the flu? That _I'm_ the one who will be putting you through this - not some faceless entity from the Council. _Me._ "

He started pacing again, once more highly agitated.

"I'm your _Watcher_ ; you're supposed to trust me implicitly. This goes against everything I know about, about- about being your Watcher!"

"Then don't do it." Buffy replied softly.

"It's not that simple!" He exclaimed, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you mean? You clearly don't wanna, and I definitely don't wanna, so let's say skip the test and move on." She threw her hands up. "I mean, what, they didn't believe the last three times I've stopped the end of the world?"

"The Council is here already," Giles reminded her, stepping close again, "And they expect this to be done. Within the next week, I'm supposed to start giving you the suppressants. And if I don't... if I don't, they'll revoke my green card, Buffy."

"Your green... but this is my _life_ ," She told him, narrowing her eyes.

"You think I don't know that?" He returned.

"You're worried about your green card, when I could likely _die_ because of this thing?!"

"I'm worried about your life," Giles insisted, looking at her incredulously. "Don't you understand? Buffy, if they force me back to London, they'll just send another Watcher here. One who _will_ perform the test, who _will_ hypnotise you, and you'll be none the wiser until it's too late. And then what? You either die because of the Cruciamentum, or you'll be stuck with a Watcher who doesn't know you and doesn't know the Hellmouth and that could lead you to your death either way!"

He paced away from her again, and she noticed how his hands shook.

"And there I'll be, probably in an office somewhere, knowing I could have at least stayed, could have at least continued to watch your back, even if... even if me putting you through the test would have made me lose your trust." He dropped his head, and Buffy's anger dissipated.

"Why are you telling me about this, now?" Buffy wondered carefully.

"Because I don't know what to do." His answer was immediate, honest, and soft. He glanced toward her and she leaned back against the shelves behind her, needing the stability of them as she considered. “We’ve been honest with one another about… so much. I didn’t want to keep this from you.”

Giles really, seriously, did not know what to do. And when has that ever happened? To this extent?

"You don't want to put me through this..." She slowly summed up, "But you're willing to, if it means you can stay here and still be my Watcher."

"I would help- I'm not supposed to help you through it, Buffy, but I would. I couldn’t possibly do otherwise."

"If you get caught, wouldn't they boot you back to the homeland anyway?"

"Possibly," He admitted. "But..." He looked helplessly desperate, again. "I can't put you through this and just… stand back."

"How did the other Watcher's do it?" Buffy murmured, somewhat rhetorically. Giles, of course, had an answer for that anyway.

"Some of them fought against it, like I have. Some of them even won their arguments. But... I have no leverage."

"Don't I?" Buffy noted. " _I'm_ their precious Slayer, after all. And I mentioned saving the world a bunch of times already, right?"

"I'm sure... you know..." He spoke haltingly, apologetically, "the Council doesn't, ehm, see the Slayer in that way. She's a- a um, well,"

"A tool." Buffy finished for him, dryly. "Their pointy sword."

"You are precious, though, Buffy." Giles told her in a soft whisper. The 'to me' part didn't need to be said, by the way that he looked at her. That filled her with a happy feeling she did not want to examine too closely.

His expression changed though, and he looked totally lost, and broken. Buffy straightened, and stepped closer to him to take his hands in her own.

"I have a bad idea." She announced seriously. "Let’s do it. Do the test."

"What?" He frowned. "I cannot knowingly put you in harm's way,"

"Don't do the hypnotizey part. I'll just... pretend I don't know what's going on. Okay? Giles - I can't lose you."

"I don't know, Buffy," He hesitated. "How is this going to help anything? You’ll still have to fight without your powers, you’ll still be in incredible danger,"

"Because you can start dosing me now." She said, and he widened his eyes at her like she'd lost her mind. "And train me, as like, a normal person. Teach me how to fight with wimpy human strength, teach me all the sly tricks _you_ use when you go out on patrol with me. See if you can figure out what or who I’m gonna have to slay, so we can research. When the test day comes, I'll be ready. I'll know how to take care of myself. And the stupid Council will be none the wiser, so they'll have no reason to drag you back to England."

"Buffy, that's..." He considered her proposal, something sparking alive in his eyes. "That is a terrible idea."

"But it's a pretty good bad idea, right?" She quirked her eyebrow at him, and his expression brightened with a serious kind of hope.

**... ... ...**

They decided that it wouldn't be safe for them to train like this in the library, as they normally do, since it was so public and he was sure the Council had it under surveillance. He told Buffy that her home would be out of the question as well; they would be watching it over as well the next couple of weeks to study her habits.

"Your place, then." Buffy decided firmly. "You said they're keeping an eye on you, but would they bug your house?"

"No," Giles shook his head. "If I notify them soon that I've, eh, given in to doing the test, then they'll have no reason to suspect me... no other reason to surveil my home."

Much more settled, at least for the time being, Buffy led the way back out into the main area of the library.

"Ok then." She nodded. "We start today. I'll meet you there right after classes."

"You may arrive before me, as I’ll need to close up the library. You remember where the extra key is hidden?" He asked, and she nodded again. "Good. Keep it with you. I'll um, I'll let the others know they, er, have the evening off from research."

"They'll love that." Buffy smiled at him, and he gave her a tired look as he shook his head slightly.

"We can't speak of this anywhere outside of my flat, after this. It's too risky."

"I understand, Giles." She assured him, resting her hand on his shirt sleeve for a moment. He seemed to have forgotten about his jacket laying on the floor upstairs. "I won't tell anyone. This is just you and me." His quick smile did not reach his eyes, and she squeezed his arm a little more firmly. "As it always should be." She added pointedly; she for sure as hell wouldn't be accepting any other Watcher than him.

His smile at that was real, and fond, and he reached up to give her shoulder a warm squeeze, before they both let go of one another and Buffy headed off to her next class.

**... ... ...**

Buffy acted casual about it as she arrived at Giles’ apartment and grabbed the spare key, letting herself inside. As if it was something she did all the time. She could feel the eyes of the Council on her back, although she wasn’t sure where they were hiding out, exactly. Maybe it was paranoid of her, but if Giles said they were watching, then she was going to believe him. He knew the Council better than she did, anyway.

And after discovering this ancient test, Buffy wasn’t sure she ever wanted to learn more about them.

It was weird, though, being in Giles’ space without him. The library was different; the library was _The Scoobies’_ , but this home with its books, and warm colors and fabrics, and pieces of art from all over the world… It was his sanctuary. Plus, it smelled like Giles, too.

She settled on the couch to wait for him, toeing her shoes off and crossing her knees in the lotus position. She closed her eyes and relaxed, pushing aside her worries for school, and graduation, and Faith, and Angel’s continued silence, and her birthday, and her dad… Oh God, what if she had to cancel on the ice capades? Her dad would be heartbroken!

“Okay, Buffy,” She muttered to herself, resettling her shoulders. “One thing at a time.” Maybe they could get this whole Crouton Test thing over with before the ice show.

The way Giles’ familiarity - his scent, included - could calm her still wigged her out a little, but not nearly as much as it had before. She was growing used to the way it made her feel, starting to accept it, starting to allow it to happen.

So long as she didn’t _act_ on it; God, Giles would probably be mortified.

“That’ll go over well,” Buffy snorted, wriggling against the cushions until she felt more comfortable. “‘Hey, Giles, your scent makes me feel all warm and cozy and is it cool that sometimes it makes me wanna crawl inside of your sweater while you’re still wearing it?’ Yeah, right.”

“That’s quite natural, actually.” Giles replied softly, and Buffy yelped as she opened her eyes and hopped to her feet. She spun around to find him standing behind his desk by the door, setting down a small stack of books.

“Oh. Hi. Uh…” She had no idea how to explain that one away. Then she realized the slight flush on his face was more from pleasure, than discomfort, and she slowly relaxed again.

“It- it is a sign,” He explained, plucking his glasses off his nose to clean them, shyly, “that you, as the Slayer, trust me rather- rather inherently. As your Watcher. It’s- it’s quite,” He smiled in a way that brightened his whole face, for a moment. “Quite nice to hear, actually.” He put his glasses back on, and then his expression darkened. “And exactly why I don’t believe in performing this bloody test.”

He glared at the briefcase that rested on his coffee table, and Buffy followed his gaze warily.

“Is that it?” She asked, somewhat detached, and his answer was to shrug off his jacket and hang it on the back of his desk chair, then head into his kitchen.

“Tea, first.” His polite suggestion was not a suggestion, and Buffy eased herself back down on the couch as she let him do his British thing.

She did not close her eyes and try to relax again, this time; she kept her eyes on the briefcase, as if it would start moving of its own accord at any moment.

Once Giles was sitting next to her and halfway through his cup of tea, he seemed marginally more himself or, at the very least, able to go into ‘Watcher-mode’. Setting his cup aside, he first pulled out what looked like a very old file from the briefcase, and then a small wooden box. He set the box aside, and focused on the file first.

“This… details the… my duties, for The Cruciamentum. Would you like to read it?” He offered gently, and Buffy considered that before shaking her head.

“You already told me everything I care about knowing. They want you to drug me, it’ll take away my powers, and you don’t want to do it.” She took a breath, and squared her shoulders. “But we have to. Let’s get it over with.”

“You likely won’t feel anything drastic, at first,” Giles warned as he slowly set the file atop the briefcase and touched the box, hesitating before he opened it. “The point was to- to drug you without you being aware of it. The effects will gradually grow stronger, over time, as I- I dose you, daily.”

“Until my birthday.” Buffy murmured, staring at the vial of yellowish liquid, nestled in felt next to a disturbingly large syringe. “Guess I’ll have to cancel the ice capades, anyway.”

“Hmm?” Giles wondered in confusion as he prepared the syringe.

“Nothing. Just a birthday tradition my dad and I have been doing since forever.” She lamented, for a moment, but then brightened. “Hey, maybe you could take me! You know, once this is all over. As a reward, for kicking vampire ass, without Slayer powers.”

It seemed to take him a minute to catch up to what she was talking about, but then he looked quite touched, and smiled warmly for a moment. Then, he gently told her,

“Buffy, I cannot be a replacement for your father,”

“Oh, no way,” Buffy partially grimaced as she shook her head vehemently at the thought. She couldn’t even begin to fathom how wrong that would be, after everything. “I mean as Giles! It could be a Watcher-Slayer date!” She smiled encouragingly at him, and his smile returned but it was a bit more hesitant.

“If we both survive this, I will certainly take you to the, eh, ice,”

“Capades.”

“Right.”

**... ... ...**

She didn’t like the needles, but Giles was gentle as could be about it, and her Slayer healing assured that her mother - and most relievingly, the spying Council - wouldn’t see the marks on her arms and give their early preparations away.

Giles was right; the first two times he injected her she couldn’t really notice any differences other than that she felt a little more tired than normal, but by the third evening, she definitely noticed.

She almost got stabbed by a _fledgling_ , and with her own stake!

“Should I still be patrolling like this?” Buffy worried, as Giles patched up her mild scrapes in his living room. She was quite comfortable in his place, now, almost as comfortable as she was in her own home.

Maybe more comfortable, these days. Was that weird? Weird that he kept a throw blanket over his couch all the time now, knowing she sometimes liked to nap between school and training? Weird that he always had her favorite snacks, and juice, in his refrigerator? Was it weird that she had a change of clothes, tucked away in one of the bottom drawers of his dresser?

Was it weird that being with him, in his apartment here, was a pleasant reminder of spending time with him in her apartment in L.A.?

“Perhaps not,” Giles admitted, answering her question and drawing her focus back to the problem at hand. “I don’t want you getting yourself killed before the real danger is even faced.”

“Gee, your belief in my own self-defense is really encouraging.” Buffy rolled her eyes, even though she was the one who brought it up, and was in agreement with him. If she was quick, and worked with momentum, she could still stake a vampire without her Slayer strength, but once it got the upperhand… it was hard to regain that back.

“I’ll get word to Angel. Have him cover for you in the time being.” Giles decided, and Buffy gave him a wide-eyed look. “What? You’ve said he’s getting better after what happened with the Bringers.” He frowned, and then rolled his eyes as well. “I’ll be _covert_ about it. The Council won’t see me talking to him.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about - though, good worry. Thanks for having that covered. I mean: don’t let Angel know about this, about me losing my powers, any of it. He’ll shadow me all night long! Probably all day, too, if he could figure out how.” Buffy complained. Internally, however, she panicked at the idea of Giles and Angel having a face-to-face, alone.

“I’m sure he might already be concerned it’s coming, Buffy.” Giles pointed out. “Angel’s lived through many Slayer lines - in fact, the last Slayer to make it to her eighteenth birthday was in just nineteen-seventy-three.”

“‘Just’,” Buffy snorted. “Like that was yesterday.”

“For some of us, perhaps.” Giles grumbled, closing up the first-aid kit to bring out the wooden box she’d come to despise.

“Angel, he- …you’ll call him, right?” She asked hesitantly, and Giles glanced up at her in question as he prepared the syringe. “I just- um… don’t like the idea of you having to go back to the mansion.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Giles replied softly, clearly touched. “But I- I planned to phone him, yes. He’s been here before, actually; he could stop by and- ”

“Inside?” Buffy interrupted sharply, and Giles paused and gave her an odd look.

“Yes… you know that he came to me about his initial concerns when The First was haunting him.” He huffed something resembling a chuckle, and smirked a little to himself. “Kept my crossbow on him the entire time, but I’d say it was an amicable conversation.” He met her eyes again and assured her, “I’ll have no problem requesting his assistance to cover patrols for you. If he is truly keen on making amends and fighting against the powers of darkness, then this is a perfect opportunity for him- ”

“Revoke the invitation, Giles.” Buffy insisted seriously, and Giles gave her a confused look at her tone. “Do it right now.”

“What- what’s the problem, Buffy?” He just sat there as Buffy got to her feet and paced a few steps, before turning toward his kitchen.

“Do you have holy water here? Whatever doo-dads you need?” She asked, and he carefully set the syringe back in the box before getting to his feet.

“What is the hurry, Buffy?” Giles asked, watching her closely. “Is Angel a danger, again? What’s happened?”

“Nothing, no, not- ” She grimaced. “Just… he might be, he could be, I don’t know, to you.”

“To… me?” Giles stood still for a moment and raised his eyebrow. “Why is this?”

“He- he knows that he and I can never be close again, can’t even really be friends.” Buffy explained hesitantly. “He’s- uh, jealous, I guess, that you and I have something he can’t ever touch.”

“Would that not also put the others in danger?” Giles furrowed his brow. “Xander, Willow, Oz?” Buffy shook her head.

“It’s different. You’re my Watcher.” Buffy told him softly. “Like you said, he’s lived through lots of Slayers… lots of Watchers, too, I’d guess. He might even know what it’s like even more than we do.”

For some reason, Giles looked momentarily embarrassed, and looked down at his shoes for a moment.

“If… it will make you more comfortable, we can perform the ritual. I have the text here at home, and the right herbs.” He offered, and she nodded when he lifted his head to meet her eyes again.

He was silent as he brushed by her to gather what was needed from the kitchen, though Buffy could tell he had questions he still wanted answered.

“Shall you do the burning and I the reciting?” He suggested, holding a small book open in one hand while passing her a bundle of herbs he’d tied together with string, and a box of matches.

“Yeah,” Buffy quipped, “your Latin’s better than mine.”

That got a little grin out of him, but the mood was slightly tense as they revoked all standing vampire invitations from the apartment.

For a while, the smell of sage and who-knows-what-else overpowered the otherwise familiarity of Giles’ place, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Still, Buffy was on edge as Giles returned everything to its proper place and she sat back down onto the couch.

“May I ask- ” Giles finally tried, but Buffy wanted to focus back on the more impending issue of the Cruciamentum, not her mixed up feelings for her Watcher and her ex’s resulting assumptions and jealousy.

“Who was she, the Slayer you mentioned before?” Buffy wondered. “What do you know about her?”

Giles was quiet as he sat back down on the coffee table in front of her, but he eventually followed her lead.

“Her name was Nikki Wood,” He replied as he sifted through his memories, probably just like the way he pored through the shelves of books in the library, “Her Watcher, Crowley, was one of the ones that objected to the test. But she insisted on doing it anyway,” He paused as he wiped the alcohol swab against Buffy’s arm, and then met her eyes, his own sparkling a little. “She would have liked you, I think.”

“Cool.” Buffy grinned, then considered something she remembered him saying when he was all ‘Ripper-like’. “Or would that be, ‘far out’?” She teased, drawling it out in that London accent, and Giles pursed his lips at her and exchanged the swab for the syringe.

He stuck the needle into her arm with a sharp dab of his hand, and she winced.

“Ow!” She protested, knowing that had been in retaliation.

“Nikki was pregnant, actually, at the time of her Cruciamentum,” Giles admitted as he administered the drugs, and Buffy gaped at him instead of watching the yellowish liquid leave the syringe and enter her arm. “It was the reason as to why Crowley protested against it, but she insisted and the Council certainly rather’d have it done regardless of her condition.”

“She was pregnant?! At- at my age?” Buffy blinked. “Oh my God, I couldn’t _imagine_ being pregnant right now - with everything else going on?! I’d never fit into my Prom dress! Who would dance with me?!”

“Your sense of priorities are truly inspiring, Buffy.” Giles drawled, gently removing the needle and pressing the pad of his thumb over the entrypoint for a moment.

Her healing was starting to slow down, too, but by now the Council expected Giles to be going through with the normal test, so they wouldn’t be alarmed by the marks on her. She’d have to wear long-sleeved shirts and jackets around her mom and the others, though.

When Giles pulled back, Buffy huffed at his sarcasm and pushed at his shoulder. He chuckled a little, barely moving, but then they both sat very still.

Slowly, Buffy reached forward and grasped his shoulder, putting more weight against him, and knowing she was testing it he leaned into her touch, pushing back.

Neither of them moved, sort of equalizing one another out. Buffy dropped her hand, and then slouched against the couch cushions.

“This is not cool.” She grumbled, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either.” Giles murmured, quietly tucking the syringe away and returning the box to its hiding place in one of his bookshelves.

“Did she survive? Nikki Wood?” Buffy asked despondently, and Giles nodded as he removed his glasses and set them atop the bar counter.

“She did,” He said a bit more positively as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “According to her Watcher’s journals, she felt that the threat against her unborn child was what gave her the strength to defeat the vampire.”

“Hm. Well that’s something I guess.” Buffy pulled herself out of her mood and got to her feet, toeing off her shoes as she met him in the empty space he’d cleared out in the middle of the floor. “What are we working on today?”

“Well…” He paused for a moment as he pulled out the knot of his tie, and then removed it from his collar, tossing it onto the counter as well. “I learned more about the vampire you’re to face. His name is Zachary Kralick.” Buffy assumed his grimace was not at his waistcoat he was removing, and tried not to show her nervousness at his partial disrobing as he went on, “As a mortal he tortured… and murdered more than a dozen women, before he was committed to an asylum for the criminally insane. A vampire broke into the premises, and- ”

“How do I kill him?” Buffy asked succinctly, and Giles hesitated, meeting her gaze. She swallowed away the tremble of fear that went through her at the fear she could see in his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Giles whispered. “He’s- he was completely mad before the demon took him over- I- ” He half turned away from her, and pushed his hand through his hair, and then let out a heavy breath. Seeming to settle himself, he faced her again, once more in Watcher-mode. “Quarterstaffs,” He decided. “You’ll want to keep your distance from him as much as you can manage, until you find an opening for the final blow. There isn’t room to work with them here, but I can argue a point with the Council that a more normal training regime will keep you from becoming suspicious, and then you and I should be able to do a bit of training in the library again.”

“Okay… and in the meantime?”

He stood opposite her, and lifted his hands up into something nearing a Muay Thai kind of stance.

“Humans have been fighting vampires for centuries. We will figure out how to defeat Kralick.” He assured her with determination, and Buffy put her hands up as well, nodding as she readied for his attack.

**... ... ...**

“Christ, Buffy, what happened?” Giles stood up in alarm when Buffy shuffled into the library along with Willow.

“Cordelia got into an argument with that boy from- ” Willow began to explain.

“I just got swatted down by some no-neck!” Buffy growled, hissing in pain as Willow helped her sit atop the research table. “ _Cordelia_ rescued me! I’m getting tired of this, Giles.”

Giles winced as he glanced toward Willow, who looked concerned for Buffy and apologetic for Giles bearing the brunt of her annoyance.

“Have you found anything to explain what’s going on?” Willow asked him gently, as he grabbed the first-aid kit and approached them.

“Um, eh, not yet,” Giles answered, not looking directly at either woman as he set the box next to Buffy and opened it up. Buffy knew that he felt uncomfortable keeping the truth from the others, when they were so obviously worried for their friend.

“Maybe it’s a curse!” Willow offered helpfully as she stepped back and gave Giles room to do his job.

Buffy’s chin was scraped up a bit, but it was mostly her shoulder that didn’t feel right. He carefully felt around the joint, noticing how she winced and bit her lip to keep from making another pained noise.

“P-perhaps,” He mused slowly.

“Will,” Buffy suggested, “Gather the gang for a research sesh later? I just… want Giles to patch me up and then get to class. I’m alright, I’ll- I’ll see you later.”

“Okay…” Willow nodded, hesitating as she watched them with obvious concern on her face.

“I believe it’s a simple dislocation.” Giles murmured. “I can put it back into place, but it will likely be sore for the next couple of days, and you should take it easy…”

“Take it easy?” Buffy repeated, giving him a worried look. “Giles, my birthday- ”

“I know, Buffy.” He soothed, sliding one hand down to hers, grasping it warmly. He met her eyes, his gaze telling her that he would have her back, and then he slid his hand up to her elbow, the other resting on her shoulder as he guided her arm back into place. There was a slight pop as the joint resettled, and Buffy swallowed down a gag. “I’m so sorry,” He murmured, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and she realized that a tear had fallen from her eye.

“It’s- it’s okay,” Buffy promised him honestly. “That hurt like heck, but it’s okay.”

He hesitated before nodding and letting his hand drift away from her cheek. As he turned to the first-aid to tend to the scrape on her chin, Buffy looked over his shoulder to find Willow still watching them, hovering by the door.

She had a curious look on her face, one that almost overtook her concern for Buffy’s well-being, but she slipped through the doors before Buffy could ask what the curiosity was for.

**... ... ...**

In the end, Buffy and Giles didn’t have to fake their way to the location of the test; Kralick sped up the timetable himself.

“Giles!” Buffy barreled into the library at full-speed - full human speed, anyhow - and he quickly came out of his office to see what was the matter. Buffy thrust the polaroid picture against his chest, and then went for the cage where he kept the weapons. “Where is he? Where is Kralick?! He has- ”

“Joyce,” Giles realized what the photo was of, and cursed, “Christ.”

Buffy was too busy stuffing stakes, daggers, and the crossbow into a duffel bag to realize there was another man in the library; she didn’t notice until she heard Giles using his pissed off voice,

“Your perfectly controlled test seems to have spun rather impressively out of control, don’t you think?” Giles hissed, and Buffy glanced up in wild confusion as she tucked a vial of holy water into the pocket of her overalls.

“It changes nothing.” The old man replied calmly, stalking around Giles to lean against the checkout counter and watch as Buffy shouldered the weapons bag. “The Slayer is still preparing for the field of battle,” He pointed out.

Buffy narrowed her eyes deeply, figuring this guy must be Council, but didn’t dignify him with words.

“Giles? Where is this test supposed to happen?” She pressed.

“You’ve told her?” Old Man Stuffy finally showed some emotion as he raised his eyebrows in Giles’ direction. “That’s in direct opposition of the Council’s orders!”

“Yes, interestingly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Council’s orders.” Giles folded his arms across his chest, and if Buffy weren’t so terrified for her mother’s life, she’d be impressed right about now. “There will be no test. An innocent woman’s life is at stake!” He looked to Buffy. “The old boarding house, on Prescott Lane.”

She nodded tersely in thanks and hoisted the bag more fully on her good shoulder, grasping a quarterstaff in her other hand before heading for the door.

“Giles, it is not our business- ”

She heard a thump and a grunt, and then Giles angrily growl,

“This is _not_ ‘business’!”

For a moment, she felt a fierce sense of pride, and ownership. _‘That’s my Watcher,’_ She thought fondly.

And then his footsteps were hurrying after her, catching up to her as he fumbled his keys from his coat pocket.

“I’ll drive.”

**... ... ...**

“I’ll take care of Blair!” Giles shouted as he fended off the vampire that was apparently someone he once knew, that was currently attempting to choke him to death. “Go!” He insisted when Buffy hesitated too long. “Find Kralick!”

He kneed the vampire in the groin and it went down hard, and Giles followed it with the nearby bookcase, trapping it as he tugged the stake from his jacket.

Buffy was halfway up the stairs when something grabbed her ankle and yanked her down, hard. She landed on the step with her face and cried out in pain as she was blinded and dazed long enough for who she assumed to be Kralick to drag her back down to the bottom of the stairs.

She kicked frantically, knowing Giles was too busy to help her right now, not wanting to distract him from his own fight. Her hand scrambled for a piece of the bannister Kralick had broken, and jabbed it at his grabbing arm, her blurred vision working against her.

“Ah!” The vampire cried out in pain as she managed to cut into his arm, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. Angered, he launched himself around to come after her up the stairs, and she jabbed the blunted end of her quarterstaff against his chest to push him back. It gave her enough time to scramble away, hoping to at least get a door between them for a few moments while her vision cleared.

When she found an unlocked door, she wished she hadn’t.

“Oh God, Mom,” Buffy whimpered at the photographs that adorned the walls; from what she could see her mother was still alive in them, but she had no idea if that were still the case. She had to find her.

She bolted out of the room only to be cornered by Kralick again, who wasted no time before grabbing onto her throat and dipping in to bite her.

“I won’t take it all,” He promised, and as much as she fought against him, as much as she was _sure_ she nailed every weak spot that Giles had taught her, nothing seemed to faze this guy. Her bum shoulder was still sore from the dislocation the other day and it wasn’t doing her any favors.

“No,” She grunted in frustration more than anything else. She could _not_ get herself killed up here for Giles to find her - or worse, have Kralick turn her into a vampire and then she _eats_ Giles… and _her mom_ ... “No! _No!_ ”

“Buffy!” She heard her Watcher shout from downstairs, and then his footsteps hurrying up them, and then suddenly Kralick had let go of her and was doing some shouting of his own.

She stared wide-eyed as Kralick grabbed at his head, tugging at his hair as he stumbled back from her. When he shakily produced the bottle of pills from his pocket, she understood. Giles had said he’d come from a mental institution. He must be having an episode of some kind, and probably depended on those pills, whatever they were.

Without another moment of hesitation, Buffy reached out and snatched the bottle from him before he could open it, turned on her heel, and bolted back toward the steps.

“Down! Down, down!” She ordered frantically as Kralick screamed at her from behind. Giles stopped, startled, at the top of the stairs, but ahead of her there was a laundry chute, and that would be faster.

“Bloody hell,” She heard Giles curse as he scrambled back down the steps. Buffy desperately hoped that Kralick was more focused on getting back his pills and less on killing Giles. She meanwhile dove through the hatch without hesitating, knowing that she didn’t have time to worry about her Watcher.

Whatever she landed on at the bottom of the laundry chute hurt like _shit_ , but good old-fashioned adrenalin was pumping through her normal human veins and she pushed through the pain, getting to her feet. She realized that her mother was currently safe here in the basement, albeit bound and gagged, and she was momentarily appeased.

She’d barely reached the chair Joyce was tied to when frantic, angry pounding sounded against the basement door at the top of the steps. Taking stock of the room for weapons, Buffy noticed the glass of water placed atop a box, slightly out of the way… probably Kralick’s, when he was down here being a creep with a camera.

“Sh,” Buffy advised her mother, who was still mumbling frantically behind the gag in her mouth, looking at her daughter incredulously. She quickly tossed out the water that was in the glass and upended the vial of holy water that had been in her pocket, setting it back into place and then hiding in the corner just as Kralick crashed through the door and down the steps.

“Where are they?! Where are they?!” As he lurched into the room, Buffy made to head up the stairs, moving purposefully slowly, and with a snarl he caught her around the waist and threw her against the wall, knocking all the breath out of her.

He paused for a moment, clearly debating between killing her first or taking the pills, but he eventually went for the bottle and ripped it out of her grasp, shuffling over toward the water as he dumped a few into his mouth.

Buffy slowly lifted her head to watch, as he gulped down the water and then gasped for breath, seeming to calm down immediately.

“You don’t seem to understand your place in all of this,” He accused, slowly stepping toward her, apparently clear-headed again. “Do you have any idea- ” He stopped, suddenly, and made an odd face. “Oh, my.” He looked down at his torso, and then back up to her. “My pills?”

“My Watcher better be alive up there.” Buffy whispered warningly, slowly tugging the now empty vial of holy water from her pocket, showing him the label. As Kralick started to burn up from the inside out, Buffy carefully lifted her chin. “If I was at full Slayer power, I’d be punning right about now.”

Once he was dust, Buffy slid to her knees in front of her mom and tugged the gag free before attempting the ropes.

“Buffy, thank God you’re okay,” Joyce gasped for breath. “Oh, that man…” She shuddered, and Buffy grunted as she put all of her weight into pulling at the knot of rope.

“I can’t get these,” She strained, huffing in annoyance, “they’re too tight,”

“Can’t you just…?”

“Not right now,” Buffy didn’t quite look at her, not wanting to get into that explanation here and now. Joyce already didn’t like Giles enough as it is. She wouldn’t understand his role in all of this… speaking of which… 

“Buffy!” Giles cried out for her as his feet stumbled and he half fell down the basement steps, but he used the momentum to push himself further into the room, frantic until he saw her. Then he was on his knees on the ground in front of her, his hands on her arms and on her face as he ascertained her status.

“ _Giles_ ,” Buffy worried, touching his cheek near his eye, where she could see even in the dim light a serious bruise already forming.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and then breathed, “You’re alright,” and he clutched her against his chest.

Surprised by his show of emotion, and overwhelmed by everything that had just happened, Buffy simply held him in return for a moment. She closed her eyes, relishing in how good his hug felt, but eventually the strain on her ribs was too much, and she winced away from him. He immediately acquiesced, an apologetic look on his face, and when his eyes landed on the gash on her forehead, she had to grab his hand before he could touch her again.

“Cut free my mom, please,” She requested, also as a warning for him not to act so familiar. Her mom might know in generalities that Giles patched her up sometimes, but she didn’t need to _see_ it. It just felt… too wrong. Too intrusive on something that was private, between them.

He swallowed and nodded, not quite able to hide his emotions completely as he got to his feet and pulled a dagger from his pocket, quickly freeing Joyce from the chair. Buffy slowly stood, wincing again and holding her arm around her side.

She’ll be happy when her healing powers kick back in.

The three of them limped back to Giles’ car without a word, though Buffy could feel the questions brewing in her mother’s mind. Buffy waited until Giles had pulled up in front of their house before speaking,

“There’s still one more monster out there, Giles.”

He understood her soft tone, and nodded in agreement. Joyce paused, having just stepped out of the car.

“What?”

“We need to take care of it.” Buffy informed her mother, who immediately began shaking her head.

“Absolutely not - look at the state of you! Of the both of you!”

“It’s dangerous out here, Mom. Go inside, and don’t open the door for _anyone_ , no matter what they say. I’ll be home once this is finished.” Buffy’s tone brooked no argument, and Giles put the car into drive. Joyce glared at him.

“Don’t you dare,”

“Get inside the house, Joyce.” He suggested softly. “We shouldn’t be long.”

Looking a bit lost, and very annoyed, Joyce stepped back from the car and closed the door, harder than necessary. Giles winced, but said nothing as he guided the vehicle back toward the school.

As expected, Travers - who Giles had told her all about during the drive - was waiting for them in the library.

Giles, with a quiet restrained anger that she noticed but the Council guy seemed not to, began to gather first aid as Buffy eased herself into a chair.

“Congratulations, you passed.” Travers announced, as if she’d been applying for a driver’s license. “You exhibited extraordinary courage and clearheadedness in battle. The Council is very pleased.”

“Do I get a gold star?” She sneered. She saw Giles pause at the doorframe of his office, leaning his weight against it briefly as he removed his glasses with a pain-filled gesture. Anger curled through her veins, hot and heavy. She was hurt, her Watcher was hurt, her mother had almost been brutally murdered -

“I understand that you’re upset- ” Travers started, and Buffy interrupted him,

“You understand _nothing_ . You set that monster loose and he came after _my mother_.”

“You think the test was unfair?”

“I think you better leave town before I get my strength back,” Buffy returned.

“We’re not in the business of fair, Miss Summers,” Travers replied, ignoring her. “We’re fighting a war.”

“You’re waging a war, _she’s_ fighting it, there is a difference.” Giles grumbled, stalking halfway toward them.

“Mr. Giles, if you don’t mind- ”

“The test is done. We’re finished.” He was exhausted, but Buffy could still hear the hint of an old Ripper threat in his tone.

“Not quite.” Travers replied, still annoyingly calm and casual about the whole thing. Clearly, he didn’t know enough about Ripper. “She passed. You didn’t.” Giles narrowed his eyes as Travers turned to look at him. “The Slayer is not the only one who must perform in this situation. I’ve recommended to the Council, and they’ve agreed, that you be relieved of your duties as Watcher immediately. You’re fired.”

Giles’ eyes sort of twitched, and Buffy stopped breathing, bewildered.

“On what grounds?” Giles asked carefully, his eyes sharp.

“Your… affection, for your charge, has rendered you incapable of clear and impartial judgement. While no one of importance seems to have noticed - which is frankly a miracle, even given how strikingly obtuse the people in this town are - you have been observed by our team having… multiple dalliances outside of your duties as Watcher and Slayer.” Travers frowned back in Buffy’s direction, as well. “That is useless to the cause.”

She stared at Giles, watching as he dipped his head slightly and didn’t immediately argue against Travers words. She couldn’t believe that this was really happening - not only was Giles getting fired, but it wasn’t even for helping her with the test! The Council thought they’d been having some sort of romantic rendezvous?!

“It would be best if you had no further contact with The Slayer.” Travers added, and Buffy wouldn’t dare let that man see how much that thought hurt her.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Giles immediately told him, firmly.

“No, well, I didn’t expect you would adhere to that.” Travers oddly sounded soft, then, like he actually knew Giles, and felt something like compassion for him beneath the uber-stuffy Council exterior. “However, if you interfere with the new Watcher, or countermand his authority in any way, you will be dealt with. Are we clear?”

So Giles would be allowed to stay in the country, at least. Unless he pushed it too far. That made Buffy feel able to breathe again, but only just.

“We’re very clear.” Giles replied, obstinate. He wouldn’t stop being her Watcher, no matter what they told him.

“Congratulations, again,” Travers said to Buffy, and she glared up at him.

“ _Bite me._ ” She gritted her teeth.

“Yes, well... colorful girl.” Travers muttered, finally turning and leaving the library. “Rather well-matched, hm, ‘Ripper’?” He sneered as he disappeared through the doors, and Buffy noticed the way Giles’ jaw clenched and his weight shifted on his feet as if he’d been about to go after the man.

Buffy slouched a little further into her seat once they were alone, dropping her head against her hand. She was exhausted in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before.

“Ah,” She hissed, shakingly touching her fingers near the gash on her forehead, terrified to actually feel how big the injury was, and then Giles was there in front of her again, kneeling, a warm damp rag in his hand.

Buffy leaned into his touch as he carefully tried to clean her wounds, and his brow furrowed deeply.

“What’s the point in writing my bloody journals if they never pay attention to them?” Giles grumbled in annoyance as he dipped the rag in the bowl of water on the table, squeezing out the excess before lifting it to her face again. “‘Extraordinary courage’? ‘Clearheadedness in battle’?” He scoffed. “I could’ve bloody well told them that.”

Buffy sucked in a breath and winced again when her forehead stung, and he grimaced apologetically.

He’d applied butterfly bandages to her forehead and was focused on rubbing a salve into her bruised knuckles when she spoke up again,

“Thank you. For having my back.” She was summing everything up together, more or less, and he blinked softly and gave her a little nod; he understood.

“Always.”

She lifted the hand he wasn’t holding on to and gently touched his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, flinching a little at the tenderness of his bruise, and she slid her hand further back, into his hair, as she leaned forward to lightly press her lips against his cheek.

His hands, both of which had been holding her left hand as he tended to it, stilled and tightened around her palm, and she felt him tremble a little bit.

“We should have found another way,” Giles murmured, keeping still as Buffy lowered her kiss to his bruised jaw next. She didn’t really think about what she was doing; she just wanted to comfort him. She wanted him to know that she didn’t blame him at all. “We should have forgone the drugs entirely,”

“They would have known,” Buffy pointed out gently, brushing her lips higher on his cheek, near his blackened eye. “They needed to see me work without my powers.”

“ _You_ didn’t need that!” Giles pointed out, then added much more quietly, “I didn’t need that.”

“Maybe I did.” Buffy leaned back so they could look one another in the eyes. She took his other hand in her own. “I fought a really nasty vampire, and I won. I was scared out of my mind, and in a level of danger I’d never been in before. Not only that, I had to worry about my mom, and my Watcher, and you know what? _I_ did that. Well- me and you. But it was _me_ and you. Not The Slayer. It was Buffy.”

His brow still furrowed slightly, but his eyes were also filled with pride in her. Pride, and love. She gently squeezed his hands, and gave him a small, albeit exhausted smile.

“Tricking him with the holy water... that was rather impressive.” Giles admitted, and she widened her smile.

“I am pretty impressive.” She flounced cockily, more to be teasing than real showing off, and Giles chuckled. He gently extricated his hands from hers before standing, and wiped the remaining salve on his fingers onto the pink-stained washcloth on the table.

“Do you need anything before I take you back home?” He asked softly.

“Tea?” Buffy requested. She didn’t want to leave him yet... she didn’t want to face the thousand questions she knew her mother would start asking as soon as she stepped through the door. She wanted some time with friend-Giles, for a while.

Giles looked surprised at first, but then pleased, and nodded as he went to his office to prepare the electric kettle.

**... ... ...**

“It’s kinda funny though, right?” Buffy mused, sitting on the floor in front of the steps, lounged against the lowest one, her legs stretched out in front of her.

“Hmm?” Giles hummed sleepily, where he sat high enough on the steps beside her to rest his arm on the shelf, his head in his hand. Both of their mugs of tea were now empty, forgotten, nearby them.

“That they think our bad idea was _me and you_ , and not us ruining their stupid test from the very beginning.” Buffy chuckled tiredly. Giles huffed out what could have been a laugh, too.

“Hm.” He agreed. Then, after a moment, he mumbled, “You and I would also be a bad idea.”

“Right,” Buffy laughed, the sound awkward enough that he opened his eyes curiously. “You’re my Watcher.” She reasoned, thinking of her dream. Of him asking her about patrol, and then… 

“You’re my Slayer.” He added, proudly and fondly but also as a legitimate reason against certain ideas. _‘You are my girl, right?’_ Ripper had asked her. Buffy nodded in agreement to Giles.

“You’re the librarian,”

“And you’re still a student.” He replied equally agreeably, meeting her gaze. They were silent for a moment.

“It’d definitely make worse what’s already pretty bad,” Buffy pointed out, gesturing toward the doors that Travers had disappeared through almost two hours ago.

“Right.” Giles still agreed, looking kind of distracted now. Staring at her, kind of distracted.

Staring at her exactly like he’d stared at her, ‘sixteen’ years old, in that hospital elevator. Except he was all her Giles. Giles who possibly thought of ‘bondage fun’ more than she’d guess.

Buffy pushed herself up onto her elbows, then slowly shifted up the steps until she was sitting right beside him. He didn’t move as he watched her, but she noticed that his breathing changed slightly. Anticipatory.

“No one has ever fought for me the way that you do.” Buffy murmured softly, in wonder and in appreciation. “Against Snyder, against the Council… Thank you. Knowing that I have you at my back, it’s… it means a lot.”

He pressed his lips together in that way she recognized meant he was holding back emotion, and gave her a short nod. Carefully, she reached over to rest her hand on his knee. She thought of the way she’d kissed his wounds mostly-innocently barely over an hour ago, and she thought of the way she’d kissed him in her dream, less than a month ago.

His eyes dropped to her lips, and her heart raced. If she kissed him right now, would he let her? He'd been surprisingly still beneath her comforting touch earlier, after all. And he had that scrape near his lip that she hadn't acknowledged yet...

Buffy leaned closer a little, slowly, watching for any sign from him that she shouldn't kiss him. His eyes only continued to stay focused on her mouth, and she was far too curious to be nervous now. Her hand still on his knee, she kissed him carefully, tenderly. She closed her eyes, falling into the warm softness of his lips, both of them sitting very still though the kiss itself felt sure.

She felt Giles' hand rest gently against her cheek, and when she shifted her lips a little bit, he responded in kind. This was no dream. She was kissing Giles - and he was kissing her back.

And it was… very nice. Neither of them deepened it; it was soft and gentle and slow and just... the kind of kiss that made her momentarily forget all about the badness of the day. She didn’t want to stop kissing him, ever, for the rest of her life - but the rest of her life would be pretty short if she didn’t take a deep breath soon.

She slowly pulled back, opening her eyes to admire the pleasure on Giles’ face. He opened his eyes a moment later, his gaze impossibly soft. He brushed his thumb against the curve of her cheek, and then lowered his hand.

“We... shouldn’t do this.” Giles sighed, sounding more tired than regretful, his rebuff gentle.

“I’m eighteen, now. Legally.” Buffy gestured toward the clock on the wall, which registered the early hours of the morning. It was officially no longer her birthday - thank God.

"It isn't simply the legality of the thing, Buffy. As we’ve mentioned, you are still a student and I'm technically your teacher,"

"You've never been my teacher and you know it," Buffy scoffed, but respected him and didn't continue to physically push for more. She wasn't about to back down emotionally, though. "You might have mentored me but- but you're my guy. My stalwart standing true - I mean, you've _so_ proved that just over the last month. You're my Watcher, my..." Her tone became soft, and she trailed off. After a moment, she murmured, "I love you." She was sure of that, too. Sure to her bones.

"Oh, Buffy," Giles crooned, gathering her close and tucking his face into her hair. "I love you, too. So dearly. But we need to..." He carefully pulled away from her, pain in his eyes but resolve there too. "We need to give this time. What we were just put through... it's the most emotionally-charged event a Watcher and Slayer can go through, together, save for- save for... well, death."

"Been through that, too." Buffy pointed out, and Giles flinched but nodded.

"Please, Buffy... please, just wait a few years?"

"A few _years_?" She exclaimed, leaning back from him.

"You are young- "

"I might not _have_ a few years, Giles. You know that more than anybody!" She got to her feet, stepping down to the floor and pacing a little away from the stairs. She touched her fingers against her lips briefly, still feeling the weight of his mouth on hers, wanting to have that again.

"I want you to... I want you to be sure. I want you to be happy, to live your life as a young woman should - as best you can as the Slayer. Go to college, if you so choose, spend time with your friends,” Giles explained, standing as well though he kept near the bottom of the steps.

“I can do all that and have a boyfriend too!” Buffy protested, and his smile looked wistful and painful all at once.

“Please." He gave her an imploring look. "I will always be here for you. You will always have my heart - and my support as your Watcher."

"What if I want your smoochies, too." Buffy grumbled, pouting mostly toward the floor. "I like your smoochies."

Giles smiled with fond amusement, and stepped close to rest his hand against the side of her head.

"There is more to a relationship than kissing, Buffy, and that's exactly my point- "

"I know that!" Buffy insisted. "But kissing is a bonus! A nice bonus!"

"It is," He agreed, stroking his thumb against her cheek again. "But that isn't a bonus we're allowed to have. Not yet." He let his hand drop away.

"Why _not_." Buffy pouted again, pointing it toward him now, knowing how weak he was against it. He immediately shifted his eyes to focus on a spot near her shoulder.

"The Council may be sending you another Watcher, Buffy, but they've let me stay here. So long as I have my job as the high school librarian, they won't revoke my green card. I don't want to jeopardize that, not with the school, the town, your mother - certainly not with the Council."

"But the Council already thinks we're 'inappropriately close'," She rolled her eyes as she made air quotes with her fingers, "Wouldn't they have made you pack your bags already, if they really cared?"

"So long as they think we're being... careful, and covert, they'll turn a blind eye to certain..." Giles glanced away, and Buffy gaped at him.

"Has this happened before? Watchers and Slayers getting together?"

"It's... not entirely uncommon." He admitted, blushing a little, then hastily added, "Though hasn't happened within recent memory." He raised his eyebrow at her, and pointed out again, "If the school were to find out we were romantically involved, they would raise questions. They would start to wonder more about all the time you've spent in my library for the last three years, and how often we’re seen together outside of school. They could fire me just from the assumption that we might've been having an affair when you were underage, Buffy. And if _that_ happens, the Council would most definitely take the opportunity to force me back to London."

"But we weren't together then." Buffy frowned. "Nobody else in this town understands, what we do, what we've been through, what my future might be - I mean, other than the Scoobies anyway- "

"Which is why I want us to wait, Buffy. Until you're a little older. Until you've had some time away from high school, away from... my sphere of influence."

She scowled at him, knowing that phrasing was coming from somebody else.

"I’m technically older anyway, you know, if you need reminding.”

“That time was forced upon you, Buffy,” Giles pointed out gently. “You didn’t… live it out.”

“You're my _Watcher_ . I'm gonna see you practically every day for the rest of my life. We’re gonna _influence_ each other, anyway.”

He smiled a little at that, like he was pleased, but pointed out,

"They don't know that. To them I’m just a high school librarian."

Buffy sighed heavily, but she wasn't ignorant. She understood his point, and that it was a good one. In cases like theirs, perception _did_ matter, to a certain degree.

"This is gonna be hard." She mumbled, fingering a button of his waistcoat.

"We'll manage." He promised her. "The... temptation will pass, Buffy."

"You're always gonna have me, too." She insisted, gripping the material in her fists. "You aren't some… flighty fancy, to me." He quirked an almost secretive smile at her, and she added, “This isn’t just because of the test. I’ve been… actually, for a little while now, I’ve…” She trailed off, too embarrassed to actually admit the extent of her dreams and thoughts of the last few months.

He looked at her for a long moment, the silence kind of gentle in a way, before he murmured,

"It was a bad idea to kiss you."

Slowly, she smiled, and flattened her palm against his chest.

"A pretty good bad idea, wasn't it though?" She returned.

He cradled her cheeks between his hands and dipped his head to kiss her slowly, one last time.

At least, for a little while.

At least, so he probably thought.


	7. Chapter 06 (Bad Girls)

“Didn’t find anything while I was out,” Buffy sighed heavily as she set a fresh box of doughnuts on the book-scattered table. “But look! All jellies.” She flipped the box open with one finger as Giles stepped closer to it, his expression alight. “Just for you,” Buffy teased, admittedly still feeling a little bad that she’d eaten all the jellies earlier, and when he glanced at her, his eyes sparkled with something extra just for a moment. “Where is everyone?” She wondered, glancing around the seemingly empty room.

“Ah, Oz fell asleep not long ago,” Giles nodded his head toward the locked cage behind her, “My consultation with the guides was... ineffective. Willow is in the back somewhere, hunting down a text that we hope will lead to…” He trailed off as his focus turned completely toward food, and he picked out a doughnut from the box. “Lovely, thank you.” He smiled before taking a bite, and Buffy watched him as he chewed and savored.

Okay, first the thing with his scent, but now she was feeling the butterflies while watching him eat?! She really needed to get it together- 

“Mm, still warm.” Giles hummed, licking the powder from his lips, and Buffy grabbed the doughnut from his hand and tossed it back into the box. “Hey- ”

She gripped the lapels of his jacket to steady herself as she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. His mouth tasted sweet from the sugary goodness, and she pressed against him harder, pushing her tongue inside of his mouth.

He froze, initially, but once he felt her tongue he tangled one hand into her hair and the other he flattened against her back, holding her against him firmly. He returned her kiss, ravenously, causing those butterflies within her to start dancing the mambo.

Or maybe the tango.

Buffy whimpered as a spark of newfound energy drifted across her skin, and suddenly his warm sweetness was gone, and she rocked back onto her heels as she tried to catch her breath. Giles took a half step back from her, pushing his hand through his hair as his tongue darted against his lips again. Buffy’s eyes tracked the movement, her body still tingling, and he put his other hand in the air, holding a finger up warningly.

“I- I best eat this… in- in the office,” He suggested firmly, giving her a shy look as he slowly reached back into the box to pick up the discarded doughnut, as well as a second one to go with it. Buffy slowly quirked a smile at him, and his expression turned into a warning look. “B-Buffy,” He lowered his voice, “we agreed.”

“How was I to know jelly doughnuts would be so… exciting?” Buffy raised her eyebrows innocently, and Giles turned a little red as his eyes dropped back down to her lips. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she let her mouth part slightly, the tip of her tongue tasting him on her bottom lip.

A muscle in his cheek twitched as he watched her, and he didn’t move for his office yet.

A low growl sounded from the cage, followed by a whine, and they both jumped. Giles ducked his head and quickly disappeared to his office, while Buffy nervously glanced behind her.

Werewolf-Oz was standing at the side of the cage, staring at her, his nose going as he scented the air. He growled lowly again, and Buffy swallowed down the sudden discomfort as she realized what he was bothered by.

He could scent their arousal.

“When you get out of there,” Buffy announced shakily, “You and I are gonna- gonna have a talk. About- about things you may or may not have seen, or uh, smelled, or, um, heard, or uh- oh God, I hope you don’t remember any of this.”

“Buffy! You’re back!” Willow reappeared from the second level of the library, coming down the steps with a few books in hand. “More doughnuts? Awesome. How was patrol? Anything new?”

“New?” Buffy repeated, distracted. Giles’ sweet tooth had its benefits; that was a new discovery. A very nice one.

“Yeah, you know,” Willow plopped into a chair and set down her collection, tugging the pastry box close to peek inside. “Demons; icky, slimy, blue? Ohhh, all jellies this time? Bet Giles was happy about that.”

“Very happy.” Buffy replied distantly, still distracted. Then she caught herself and blushed, stammering out a question about Willow’s research as she inwardly urged herself to cool off, reclaiming her chair beside Willow.

Giles stayed in his office for another twenty minutes, but Buffy didn’t mind and Willow didn’t seem to notice anything was weird otherwise. Briefly, Buffy glanced back toward the cage again, and Oz was quiet now though he continued to stare at her. Buffy could swear those wolfy eyes were knowing, and she swallowed nervously.

**— — —**

“So what, you’re telling me never?!” Faith exclaimed as she fought off a vampire.

“Faith! Really now is not the time!” Buffy grimaced, tumbling to the ground with her own vampire and pushing his face away from her neck.

“I’m curious.” Faith protested. “Never ever?” In unison, they both flipped their targets up over end, freeing themselves and hopping to their feet in perfect sync.

Buffy was getting to really like having a Slayer sister around. Well, some of the time, anyway… 

“Come on, really.” Faith huffed out a breath of air, moving her hair out of her face. “All this time, and not even once?”

Angry snarls interrupted them again and Faith had to turn and fend off the incoming punch, returning one of her own and flipping the vampire back to the ground.

“How many times do I have to say it?” Buffy complained. “I have never,” She punched the other vampire, following it as it stumbled back against the mausoleum, “done it,” She ducked it’s swinging fist and kneed it hard in the stomach, “with Xander!” She finished, thrusting her stake into its chest and dusting it. “He’s just a friend.” Buffy frowned, though Faith couldn’t see her disapproval as she was still busy.

Her flipping kick through the air wasn’t quite as graceful as Buffy’s usually was, but it was efficient, and she was able to stake the other vampire and give themselves a breather.

“So? What are friends for?” Faith brushed herself off as they neared one another again. “I mean, I’m sorry, it’s just - all this sweating-nightly, side-by-side action, and you never put in for a little after-hours… unf?” She grinned widely, and Buffy tried not to grimace.

“Thanks for the poetry,” She grimaced a little bit. “And no. I love Xander, I just don’t  _ love _ Xander. Besides,” She let out a breath and looked to the ground, eyeing the various boot prints in the mud, “I think it ruins friendships to do that stuff.”

Casual smoochies, just to take the edge off? No way. Smoochies with the person you loved, just to take the edge off - now that was something else entirely. Something way better.

“You think too much.” Faith snorted, and then leered at her. “How about Giles?”

“What?” Buffy squeaked, darting her gaze back up toward Faith, wondering for a split second if the other Slayer had somehow read her mind.

“Giles isn’t your friend.” Faith raised an eyebrow, teasing.

“Yes he is!” Buffy protested, realizing too late that Faith was fishing for that exact answer.

“And he’s  _ also _ your Watcher… where it counts,” Faith slowly stepped around her, like a lion that had caught its prey. “Not just nightly-sweats there - day-time sweats, too. Training. Close quarters, long hours, all the paaanting and grooaaaning- ”

“Stop that!” Buffy insisted, alarmed that the noises Faith was making were actually starting to make her blush.

“What with the boxing and all.” Faith finished innocently, and then made a face to go with it. “What? What’d you think I was talking about?” She smirked again, and Buffy rolled her eyes and brushed by her, focusing toward the ground again to hide the flush in her cheeks.

Her dream was still vivid as ever, and some nights lately it had inspired new ones. But she was doing really good, now, about keeping things friendly and professional. It’d been weeks since the jelly-doughnut-inspired make-out session, and Buffy was feeling really confident with her self-control. Even when it was just the two of them, she and Giles were very good about keeping things Watcher-Slayer related, and they saved any friendly banter for when the rest of the gang was around… just in case it might accidentally lead to other things.

Faith was not helping Buffy’s self-control, right now.

“There’s one more.” Buffy informed the other Slayer, pointing to the boot-prints on the ground.

“How do you know?” Faith frowned, following her gesture.

“I think too much.” Buffy replied dryly. She and Giles had spent a lot of time over the years tracking werewolves and other creatures in the darkness; she’d gotten pretty good at recognizing different sets of prints. “Come on,” she said, following the tracks, “he’s this way.”

“Don’t think I didn’t catch your lack of denial, B,” Faith sing-songed. “There’s something going on there, I just know it.”

“Can we focus, please?” Buffy grumbled, still flustered. Faith shrugged and bounced along beside her, a skip in her step.

**... ... ...**

“Oh, I have to go see Giles, report on last night’s patrol,” Buffy sighed as the bell signalled the end of free period and they all grabbed their things. A part of her wanted to see him, because a part of her always wanted to see him these days, but another part of her dreaded it what with Faith’s recent comments still bouncing around her brain.

“Oh yeah, he said he wanted to talk to you.” Willow remembered.

“What about?” Buffy suddenly worried. “Is he okay?”

“He’s… looked better.” Willow winced a little, and Buffy continued to worry all the way to the library.

The last time she saw him everything seemed more or less hunky-dory; she hoped Travers hadn’t come back with some kind of ultimatum. Or worse - there was another apocalypse.

Though right now she’d take an apocalypse over Quentin Travers any day.

She relaxed as she strolled into the library and saw Giles sitting un-injured on the edge of the research table, but only marginally, because there was another man standing in the room as well and visually he just  _ screamed _ ‘Council’.

“Hello, Buffy.” Giles greeted her somewhat dejectedly, only glancing at her before dropping his eyes, and she offered him a careful smile.

“Well.” Mr. Council pasted on a smile and stepped around the table to intercept her approach, squaring his shoulders and folding his hands together in front of him like this was some sort of formal thing. “Hello.”

She eyed him carefully, speaking toward Giles as she asked primly,

“New Watcher?”

“New Watcher.” Giles confirmed, and she could tell that he hated it, as much as he was trying to appear bored and unaffected.

“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.” The man introduced himself, thrusting his hand out in greeting, and Buffy blinked. She stared at him, and then down at his hand, as if it offended her, and didn’t move to touch it. He hesitated, but then collected himself and stepped back. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Buffy kept her eyes on him as she stepped close to Giles.

“Is he evil?” She asked the only opinion that mattered to her right now.

“Evil?” Wesley repeated.

“The last one was evil.” Buffy informed him, unwavering.

“Oh yes.” Wesley recalled. “Gwendolyn Post. We all heard.” He sounded uncomfortable about that, but then said in an assuring tone, “No, Mr. Giles has checked my credentials rather thoroughly, and phoned the Council, but I’m glad to see you’re on the ball as well.”

Buffy eyed his suit warily. It wasn’t tweed, but it didn’t fit him well at all. She couldn’t really tell how physically fit he was because of it, but she was pretty sure there was no way he’d hold his own against a vampire on patrol.

Suddenly Wesley had stepped toward her again, and was leaning almost into the bubble she and Giles had created. They both tilted away from him, as one.

“A good Slayer is a cautious Slayer,” Wesley imparted in a whisper, as if it were grand knowledge.

Buffy looked at Giles again.

“Is he evil?”

“Not in the strictest sense of the- ”

“Well,” Wesley interrupted loudly, “I’m glad that’s cleared up.” He was already frustrated by them, and Buffy pursed her lips in an almost smile toward Giles, who returned the expression.

This could be fun.

As Wesley stalked around her to return to unpacking his boxes of books, Buffy slipped up onto the table next to Giles, unable to resist sitting right alongside him. He tucked his hands more firmly between his knees, but she caught the pleased look on his face as she quietly bumped his shoulder with her own.

“As I’m sure none of us is anxious to waste any time on pleasantries, why don’t you tell me everything about last night’s patrol?” Wesley suggested pointedly, coming up beside them again.

“Vampires.” Buffy quipped, thinking about Giles’ waistcoat. He looked particularly yummy this morning. Maybe he’d done something different with his hair?

“Yes?” Wesley prompted when Buffy didn’t elaborate.

“Killed ‘em.” She said, tucking her hands tightly beneath the jacket in her lap. She felt sorely tempted to touch Giles’ cheek, and feel if it was as soft as it looked.

“Anything… else, you can tell me?” Wesley questioned hopefully.

Buffy met Giles’ eyes, wondering if she really needed to deal with this guy right now, and he nodded his head for her to go on, though his arms were now folded across his chest. Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but continued,

“Uh… one of them had swords. I don’t think he was with the other two.”

“Swords?” Wesley repeated, as if that meant something to him. He shuffled back toward the box on the other end of the table behind them, and Buffy took the opportunity to bump her knee against Giles.

He was swinging his legs a little, and when she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, he was fiddling with his fingers, too. Wesley repeated the word ‘swords’ again, but Buffy wasn’t listening, because Giles had slowly shifted the hand closest to her across his thigh until he could brush the backs of his knuckles against her coat. It wasn’t a touch that she could feel, but the gesture was nice enough to give her some warm fuzzies.

“One long, one short?” Wesley questioned, pages fluttering as he scanned through a book.

“Mm. Both pointy.” Buffy replied, distracted. “With, like, jewels and things.” She met Giles’ gaze, and his eyes dropped to her lips for a moment.

“Sounds familiar,” He admitted, and she marvelled at his ability to multitask. Slowly, he folded his arms back against his chest, tucking his hands tight against his body, and Buffy glanced away, knowing this wasn’t the time or place to get all googly-eyed.

“It should.” Wesley announced loftily, stepping in front of them and thrusting a book at them. Buffy barely restrained herself from making a comment, as Giles reached out to take the book and hold it so that he and Buffy could both read it together.

If she leaned in a little more than what was necessary, so what? Maybe Wesley would just think she was intently curious. Of course it had nothing at all to do with Giles’ aftershave.

“El Eliminati,” Giles read aloud with furrowed brow, “Fifteenth- ”

“Fifteenth century duelist cult, deadly in their day.” Wesley interrupted, speaking proudly. “Their numbers dwindled in later centuries due to an increase in anti-vampire activity. And a lot of pointless dueling.”

Buffy and Giles shared a look, and then slowly turned their eyes toward the other Watcher.

“They eventually became the acolytes of a demon called Balthazar, who brought them to the new world, specifically here.” He gestured to the ground in front of him.

“You seem to know a lot about them.” Giles conceded plainly, not really all that impressed, closing the book and handing it back to Wesley.

“I didn’t get this job because of my looks.” Wesley quipped in reply, taking the book back to his collection behind them.

“I really, really believe that.” Buffy remarked, and Giles swung his legs again, not quite admonishing her but not entirely letting her see his amusement, either. That didn’t matter; she could tell by the purse of his lips that he was fighting off a smile.

“I’ve researched this town’s history extensively.” Wesley explained tersely, choosing to ignore her sass.

“So, why have we not seen them before this?” Giles questioned, and only Buffy knew that he was challenging the other man.

“They were driven out, a hundred years ago.” Wesley answered, pacing into their line of sight again, eager to be the one with the knowledge. “Happily, Balthazar was killed. I don’t know by whom.”

“And they’re back ‘caaause…” Buffy raised her eyebrow.

“Balthazar had an amulet, purported to give him strength. When he was killed, it was taken by a wealthy landowner named- ”

Buffy rolled her eyes at him, dramatically. At least Giles had learned to give her all the need-to-know, and save the history stories for Willow. Ugh, was she going to have to train another Watcher, too?

“I don’t want to bore you with the details.” Wesley glanced away from her, at least partially understanding her look.

“A little bit late.” Buffy muttered.

“Named Gleaves.” Wesley darted his gaze back toward her, frustrated again. “It was buried with him, and I believe the few remaining Eliminati are probably looking for it. For sentimental value.”

“And you don’t think that this amulet poses any threat?” Giles asked dubiously.

“Oh no, not at all,” Wesley waved the worry away, strolling back toward his box again. “Nonetheless… we may as well keep it from them.”

Right, as if he didn’t think Giles had made a good point. Buffy leaned against Giles’ arm slightly, approving, and he seemed less fidgety but he still held his arms across his chest.

“Buffy, you will go to the Gleaves family crypt tonight and fetch the amulet.” Wesley told her, and she and Giles both turned at the same time to stare at him.

“I will?”

“Are you not used to being given orders?” Wesley questioned, and there was no way Buffy was going to give him some kind of thing to lord over Giles’ head.

“Whenever Giles sends me on a mission, he always says ‘please’.” She informed him promptly, turning back to face front. “And afterwards, I get a cookie.” She noticed Giles duck his head, and she looked over to grin at him, which he returned for a moment but then silently suggested she cool it on the sass. She tilted toward him teasingly, but then heard Wesley step forward again and she straightened.

“I don’t feel we’re getting off on quite the right foot.” Wesley commented, but before he could go into some kind of lecture, Faith strolled into the library. “Ah,” He tilted his head at her, lifting his chin. “This is perhaps Faith.”

Faith’s perusal of him was much more open in distaste, and she stopped before she got too much closer.

“New Watcher?” She asked Buffy and Giles, who both answered in sad tones at the same time,

“New Watcher.”

“Screw that.” Faith snorted, turned on her heel, and left the room again. Buffy pouted.

“Now why didn’t  _ I _ just say that?” She complained to Giles, who gave her a briefly compassionate look but then nodded in Faith’s departing direction.

“Buffy, would you…”

“I’ll see if I can get her back.” Buffy sighed dejectedly. She liked this united front she was putting up with Giles, but there was no excuse (not one they didn’t want anyone else knowing, anyway) for her to hang around any longer, so she hopped to her feet. “Don’t say anything incredibly interesting while I’m gone,” She teased them both, strolling out to catch up with the other Slayer.

**... ... ...**

“He called you ‘our girl’!” Giles protested. “Th-that bloody… ponce!”

“Giles…”

“What gives him the right?” Giles stomped back and forth across the floor in front of his high-top counter, highly agitated.

His glasses had long since been tossed to the counter, and his clothes and hair were a rumpled mess. If Buffy didn’t know better… but she did know better. And unfortunately, they were still holding strong to the no-smoochy rule, since The Jelly Doughnut Incident.

“Reading my journals as if- as if- if he  _ owned _ them, talking about you like- like… he has no right!” Giles insisted, stopping suddenly and pointing his finger angrily at her. “You’re  _ mine _ !”

Buffy slowly raised her eyebrows, in surprise at his words and at his tone, although it did also secretly sort of make her feel very happy.

“Excuse me?” She wondered quietly, squinting at him, and he deflated though only slightly. “As much as that gave me the tinglies just then, I don’t belong to anyone, Giles.”

“I- I mean,” He lowered his eyes, ashamed now. “N-not in the, the ownership sense of the term, I mean, not like- ” He paused his stammering, and then tilted his head to the side. “Tinglies?” He repeated.

“Nice ones.” Buffy told him with a nod, softening her expression. He blinked, and then blushed. “You don’t need to be so territorial, Giles,” Buffy reminded him soothingly, a bit teasingly. “You know you’re the only Watcher for me.”

“Prat didn’t even ask if you were alright,” Giles muttered under his breath, his shoulders finally losing some of their tension.

“But you did,” Buffy reminded him, smiling as she stepped closer. She meant her hand on his arm to be soothing, but from the way he stared at it, it didn’t quite have that effect.

“He…” Giles sighed heavily and lifted the arm she wasn't touching to rub his hand tiredly over his face. “He called you my ‘emotional problem’.” Giles admitted.

“Huh?” Buffy frowned. “I’m not a problem!”

“Just a bad idea?” He returned weakly, glancing up toward her, and Buffy blinked silently.

“A  _ good _ bad idea, I thought we agreed.” She replied softly, rubbing her thumb against his shirt.

Giles sighed heavily, almost a groan, and gathered her in his arms to hold her tightly against him. She returned the embrace immediately, relieved, desperate, and nuzzled her face against his chest, breathing him in. His scent calmed her and excited her all at once.

“Wh- … what did you want to talk about, Buffy?” Giles asked eventually, sounding much calmer and more like himself, though his movements were nervous as he gently guided them apart and headed into the safety of his kitchen. “Would you like tea?”

“Faith,” Buffy replied, following him around to the corner, leaning against the edge of the counter as she watched him. “Well, Slayers.” When he hummed a noise for her to continue, she told him more details about their first patrol, and finding the big group of Eliminati vampires in the sewers, how she’d almost drowned again, and what had happened when she gave in to the wildness within her.

“The… wildness?” Giles questioned, turning to face her as the kettle heated on the stove. He leaned his hips against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, in total Watcher-mode.

Buffy eyed him slowly, considering doing away with their self-imposed rule and kissing him. He looked extremely kissable all of a sudden. Well, more than usual.

“The Slayer, you know,” Buffy shrugged her shoulders slightly, “the baser needs I guess. The thrill of the hunt.” She paused for a long moment, letting him consider that, and then added, “And what comes afterwards.”

“What- what comes afterwards?” Giles wondered, having no idea.

“The…” She considered how to word it for him. “Wanting.” His eyebrow twitched upwards at that.

“Wanting of what? To slay?”

“Wanting to… have.” She looked directly into his eyes, willing him to see the strength of the desire in her own, and after a second he sucked in a breath in surprise. “See,” Buffy suddenly continued casually, “Faith has this thing about ‘want, take, have’, but I don’t want to take, Giles. I know what I want, but I want it given to me. I want to earn it. I want you to want it, too.”

“B- Buffy, I…” He winced and glanced away from her before finishing, “I think you know very well that I want, too.”

“Maybe making out for a few minutes would help us figure things out.” Buffy reasoned. Giles blinked at her, unamused. She pursed her bottom lip, just slightly, not quite a pout, but it was enough that he sighed loudly and looked up at the ceiling.

“Stop that.”

“You told me the temptation would pass, Giles.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“Well neither are you!” She huffed, and he looked back toward her, aghast.

“Me? What have  _ I _ done?” He protested.

“What  _ don’t _ you do?” She grouched, gesturing toward him vaguely. “Standing there… breathing…”

Giles tilted his head a little, curious, the corners of his mouth turning up just a bit, and Buffy put her hands on her hips.

“Kicking ass against the vampires in that warehouse? Sassing off to Balthazar was bad enough, but when you started swinging that sword around…” Buffy trailed off, and made a noise in her throat that surprised them both.

“Y-you’ve seen m-me wield a sword before, Buffy,” Giles reasoned nervously, flushing at the half-groan, half-growl she’d made.

When she straightened off the wall, he lifted his head up straight, but he didn’t otherwise move. She stepped toward him, and his eyes immediately dropped toward her mouth.

“Watcher-mine.” Buffy murmured proudly, and his pleasure at that title was obvious.

“You were quite magnificent to see, as well.” He told her, mirroring her tone of voice, and she reached out to wrap her hands around his suspenders, sliding her fingers slowly up the straps.

“You have mentioned before, how you love watching me work,” Buffy recalled innocently, rising up on her toes, and she was delighted to find his eyes spark with a rejoinder, instead of shying away again.

“It is there in the title,” He pointed out, lowering his head fractionally closer to hers.

“Giles… we’re breaking the six-inch rule.” She whispered. Technically, they broke that rule all the time. They just pretended to ignore it whenever it happened.

“We’re breaking the kissing rule, too.” He informed her gravely, and she raised her eyebrow coyly.

“We are?” She was barely able to finish her quip before he was upon her.

They were.


	8. Chapter 07 (Consequences)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning*: this chapter approaches Faith's attempted rape of Xander. I didn't go into detail with it and I didn't take the scene as far as canon did, either - but it is approached, so I thought it best to note a warning for that.

“Faith, we have to tell. I can’t pretend to investigate this; I can’t pretend that I don’t know.”

“Oh, I see - but you can pretend you aren’t boning your Watcher when you need to protect  _ him _ from getting arrested.” Faith folded her arms across her chest.

“That- that isn’t the same! And I’m not having sex with- ” Buffy huffed, not wanting the subject to veer off course. “I  _ am _ trying to protect you! Look, if we don’t do the right thing, it’s only going to make things worse for you.”

“For me?” Faith raised her eyebrows. “You were right there beside me when this whole thing went down.”

“Yeah, and I tried to stop you!” Buffy reminded her, and she clenched her jaw, begrudgingly pausing over that.

“It was the heat of the moment,” She muttered defensively, averting her eyes and relaxing her arms. “We were in the middle of fighting vampires - how was I supposed to know some moron would jump out at us- ”

“Exactly,” Buffy gently insisted. “We should tell Giles. He’ll understand. He’ll figure out how to help us.”

Faith thought for a long moment.

“If he rats me out, I rat him out.”

“Faith!” Buffy frowned. “Giles and I aren’t- ”

“That’s the only way I’ll talk to him.” She folded her arms across her chest again, raising her eyebrow challengingly. Buffy pressed her lips together tightly, but then gave her a short nod.

Faith  _ needed _ to talk to someone, and if this was what would do it, then Buffy would deal with the continued misconceptions. Knowing Faith, she probably would’ve made the jokes anyway, regardless of the half-false claims.

“I’m not talking to the tightwad,” Faith snorted derisively, and Buffy nodded in agreement.

“Wesely definitely wouldn’t understand. Just… come by Giles’ tonight, before patrol?” Buffy requested. “We’ll talk it out with him.”

“What, and interrupt you two boinking?” Faith grimaced, and Buffy made a face at her.

“We aren’t like that!” Buffy insisted, and Faith rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Whatever you’re like… I’m trusting that, B.” Faith gave her a warning look. “I’m trusting that you’re sure he won’t just immediately call the cops on me. You better be right, because anything I have to answer for, you do too. You’re a part of this, all the way.”

She left the classroom without another word, and Buffy sat alone for a moment as she considered how to get word to Giles without alerting Wesley.

**... ... ...**

  
  


They sat in Giles’ living room, the Slayers on the couch and him in his chair, a tray of tea and some snacks on the coffee table between them.

Faith had snorted at the offering, but ate a few cookies at the beginning of the awkward conversation. Once she was further put at ease by Giles’ calm tone and un-accusing eyes, she began to speak a little less caustically about staking the deputy mayor.

“He came outta nowhere…” Faith murmured, trailing off uncomfortably.

“I know.” Buffy whispered, not wanting to push too much, but hopeful for the note of vulnerability in Faith’s voice. Faith hesitated anyway, and then her shoulders tensed.

“Whatever. I’m not looking to hug and cry and learn and grow, I’m just saying, it happened quick, you know?” She tried to shrug it off, and Buffy glanced toward Giles, who still hadn’t put his glasses back on and still appeared to be struggling for the right way to respond to Faith.

“This…” He began slowly, and then seemed to change his course of direction, “What can you tell me about patrol that night? I would like as many details as possible that you can remember for what happened in that alleyway.”

Between the two of them they managed to recall the entire night, and Giles nodded as he took mental notes.

“It seems he heard you fighting the vampires, and came  _ toward _ you instead of running in the opposite direction…” Giles mused.

“Yeah, weird.” Faith nodded, encouraged that Giles wasn’t focusing entirely on the staking itself. “Most people in this town aren’t  _ that _ dumb.”

“...I don’t think he was in that alley by chance,” Buffy admitted carefully. “I think he was looking for us. I’d like to know why.”

“I agree.” Giles nodded, looking grave. “Nevertheless, he was human… he was the deputy mayor. This is… difficult.” He glanced toward Faith, and she glowered and slouched against the couch cushion. “I only mean to say that there are a lot of eyes on this,” Giles soothed. “It’s not… it’s not good, what’s happened, but this is not the first time something like this has happened.”

“It’s not?” Buffy wondered in quiet surprise, and Faith perked up a little bit, just as curious.

“The Slayer is on the front line of a nightly war,” Giles pointed out, looking at them both. “It- it’s tragic, but accidents have happened. … B- but we can deal with the repercussions of that later. We need to come up with a convincing story for the public, first and foremost, to keep the two of you away from suspicion while we figure out what Allan Finch wanted with you.”

“Great.” Faith muttered, folding her arms over her chest. She still looked perturbed, but somewhat relieved as well. Buffy had to admit, it was darkly comforting that they weren’t the first ones to make such a horrible mistake.

“If he was- um, after us, couldn’t it be self-defense?” Buffy tried, and Giles raised his eyebrow dubiously.

“It didn’t sound to me as if he attacked you.” He glanced between them. “Did he attack you?”

“He- he was reaching!” Faith protested. “I’d just killed a vampire - I thought he was another one!”

“As you said, it all happened very quickly.” Giles replied slowly and calmly. “I’m simply wondering whether his intentions were good, or not. Why don’t we see why the deputy mayor was roaming the streets so late at night, and go from there?” He waited for both girls to nod in agreement, and then he got to his feet. “Go to the town library, check the census books for Finch’s home address. I also suggest looking into his office and seeing if there is anything noteworthy to find.”

“You… want us to break into City Hall?” Faith asked in surprise, and Giles raised his eyebrows as he gathered up their barely-touched tea things.

“Did I say that?” He replied, heading into his kitchen. Faith turned her surprise toward Buffy, who stood as well and led the way to the door.

“Remind me one day to tell you about Ripper,” Buffy told her.

“I’d rather you not.” Giles called out dryly.

The Slayers were halfway to City Hall when Faith spoke up again.

“I can’t go to jail, B. Whether it’s tweed-jail or not, I’m telling you - ”

“If Finch was up to something, you might not have to,” Buffy interrupted her. “But there’s still consequences, Faith. We can’t get out of this totally unscathed.”

“Unscathed,” Faith snorted. “God, does he read the dictionary to you while he’s boning you, or something?”

“Oh my God,” Buffy grimaced and glared at her, “ _ No _ , and  _ we aren’t _ , and  _ stop that _ .”

Faith made an expression as if she were amused, but kept quiet until they’d broken into the office and were busying themselves on opposite sides of the room.

“So, what, you think there’s some big conspiracy?” Faith asked dubiously, shuffling through the desk drawers. Buffy opened one of the filing cabinets and thumbed through empty folders.

“You were saying…?” Buffy sassed, stepping to the side to show Faith.

“So his papers are gone,” Faith shrugged. “That doesn’t prove anything,” She sounded uneasy though, and Buffy glanced up toward her.

“Except that somebody didn’t want us to prove anything.”

Faith considered that.

“His house, next?” She sighed, and Buffy nodded, closing the cabinet drawer.

“Yeah, but let’s keep our distance at first. The police might still be there.” Buffy noted.

**... ... ...**

“I was questioned by  _ the police _ , Giles,” Buffy hissed, pacing across the floor. He leaned against the edge of his office door, calmly sipping his tea, watching her. “A  _ detective _ came to my house! Questioned my mom! Probably questioned Faith, too!”

“Buffy,” He set his cup down on the edge of the check-out counter and tilted his head a little as he attempted to calm her down, “he’s simply doing his job. He didn’t accuse you of anything, he didn’t arrest you - you mustn’t act nervous. It makes you look guilty.”

“I  _ am _ guilty!” Buffy protested in dismay, and he straightened as his eyes flashed.

“No, you are not.” Giles informed her plainly. “According to the story you  _ and _ Faith both told me, you tried to stop her from staking him, and then you attempted to put pressure on his wound. That is not what a guilty person does.”

“But then I ran away and left him there,” Buffy muttered, coming to a standstill and lowering her head. “I didn’t even call an ambulance.”

“It wouldn’t have helped.” Giles told her truthfully and bluntly. “Besides that, you claimed to have heard sirens approaching.”

“Yeah - which means the witnesses that detective mentioned were  _ real _ .” Buffy looked up to him again, panic in her eyes. “What if they can identify me? Or Faith? God, Giles, we can’t- Faith shouldn’t go to jail, either! I know she’s acting all tough and better-than-everyone-else, but I know she’s struggling with this too! Jail is not going to do her any favors!”

“Buffy,” Giles stepped closer and rested his hands atop her shoulders. He breathed in deeply, silently encouraging her to do the same, and they breathed together for a moment until Buffy no longer felt like she was going to go on another rambling tirade. “I agree with you wholeheartedly. Normally, the Council would investigate, mete out punishment if- if punishment is due, but I have no plan to involve them.” He didn’t hesitate on his declaration, meeting Buffy’s gaze directly. “It’s certainly the last thing Faith needs at the moment. She’s unstable, Buffy, and if she continues to refuse to open up completely about the issue, then… ”

“She’s freaking.” Buffy agreed, thinking of how Faith had started to close up more just before they’d parted ways at the deputy mayor’s house. “So then we just have to help her deal, right?”

“She’s still in denial,” Giles pointed out, gently but surely. “She needs to be able to accept what has happened, to accept how she feels about it. She can’t begin to heal, or accept anyone’s help, until she admits that first.”

“I… could talk to her again?” Buffy suggested.

“Perhaps,” Giles let out a breath, rubbing his thumbs soothingly against the curve of her shoulders.

“Or maybe I’m too close,” Buffy admitted. “Maybe, maybe one of the guys could.”

“We should meet.” Giles nodded, agreeing. “It may be that they’re seeing a different side of her.”

“Okay…” Buffy took a deep, settling breath.

“In the meantime, no one else is to know, understood? This is… extremely delicate.”

“Of course.” Buffy whispered, ducking her head.

“Now,” He squeezed her shoulders one more time, encouraging. “Join me in my office, where we can sit for a moment.” He let her go to retrieve his tea cup again before following her into the room. “What can you tell me about Finch’s office? His home?”

“There wasn’t anything in his office,” Buffy shook her head, speaking gravely as she shrugged out of her coat and settled into the comfy reading chair. “All of his files were missing. And we couldn’t get near the house; it was still blocked off by police.”

“As if the police had already rifled through the office?” Giles wondered, slowly sitting in his desk chair facing hers, and Buffy hesitated before slowly shaking her head.

“I don’t think so. It was otherwise clean… ordered. Whoever emptied out his filing cabinets knew exactly what they were looking for and what to take.”

“So perhaps he was involved in something shady, after all, and the mayor wanted it hidden…” Giles mused, finishing off his tea.

“I… I talked to Willow, earlier.” Buffy admitted hesitantly, watching him closely for his reaction. “Lately I’ve been sort of ignoring her, what with patrolling with Faith and training with you and avoiding Wesley- not that I’m blaming anyone else! I know that’s on me… and I just needed to talk with my best friend, you know?”

Giles nodded in understanding, giving her a small smile as he set his cup aside again.

“So she knows everything… and her advice was for me to come talk to you,” Buffy smiled a bit wryly at him, and his eyebrow twitched upward in surprise. “I mean- she doesn’t know  _ everything _ , like, about me and you - she knows about Finch. She just meant I should talk to you in like a Watcher-y aspect.”

“Willow has always been rather astute,” Giles conceded, and Buffy nodded in agreement.

“She was surprised when I told her that I’d already told you what was going on. I guess we’ve been pretty good about not acting too… friendly… in front of her.”

He quirked something like an apologetic smile, the gesture brief and quickly hidden behind his habitual glasses-cleaning. Buffy hesitated for a moment, but then reached forward and covered his hands with her own. He stopped moving, but didn’t pull away from her.

If Buffy had been paying better attention, she would have noticed the faint sound of another heartbeat in the library, she would have recognized the stuffy smell of Wesley’s cologne. As it was, she was entirely focused on Giles, the warmth of his hands, and the way his knees pressed against hers.

“Thank you,” She murmured. “For not flying off the handle about this. For trying to help.”

“It is obvious to me how guilty you feel, Buffy,” Giles returned, tucking his handkerchief and glasses into one hand so he could twist the empty one around to card their fingers together. “And Faith, too, as much as she’s been trying to hide it. It would do neither of you any good to continue to stick your faces in it. I’m your Watcher,” He brushed his thumb against her knuckles. “It’s my job to help you learn and grow as the Slayer.”

“And hug me while I cry?” Buffy wondered lowly, recalling Faith’s earlier snarky comment, her voice catching as the stress of everything finally just collapsed onto her. He slipped his hands free to set his glasses and handkerchief onto his desk, before holding his arms out toward her.

“That’s my honor as the man who loves you,” He whispered, and Buffy hiccupped a ragged sob, leaning forward into his embrace.

As she clenched the rumpled edges of his waistcoat and allowed the tension and emotion of everything to release through tears, Giles held her as closely as he could with their awkward positioning, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

“Here,” He eventually murmured into her hair, standing and pulling her up with him without letting her go. “Toe your shoes off, luv.” She did so without really thinking, still sniffling, and then Giles turned around with her so that he could settle into the reading chair instead, and pulled her down into his lap.

She curled up immediately, closing her eyes as she pressed her ear against his chest, soothed by the scent of him and the beat of his heart. He wrapped an arm around her bent legs and the other around her back, resting his cheek atop her head as her tears dampened his waistcoat and shirt.

“Sorry,” She muffled, and felt him shake his head and hold her tighter. She loosened her hold on his clothing a little, and brushed her palm down his tie, the softness of it soothing to her as well.

After a while of this repetitive action, and Giles’ warm hand mirroring the gesture against her back, Buffy huffed out a watery chuckle.

“We’re definitely breaking the six-inch rule, again.” She sighed, content.

“Somehow, I couldn’t care less.” Giles quipped gently, and she giggled again, a bit looser this time.

She felt exhausted, suddenly, in the way that only a good cry could do, and she snuggled against him. She heard the way his heart skipped in his chest, but she decided not to call attention to it. She closed her eyes and focused until their breathing matched, slow and steady, and she was on the verge of sleep.

“You should get home,” Giles eventually noted quietly, but didn’t move to release his hold of her. “We’ll need to meet with the others during homeroom in the morning.”

“That’s only in a couple hours,” Buffy whined. “Can’t we just stay here?”

“And how will we explain wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” Giles pointed out.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve pulled an all-nighter,” Buffy reasoned. He was quiet for a moment, and then admitted,

“This isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to sleep.”

“It isn’t?” She quipped lightly, wriggling just a little bit, until her butt bone rubbed against his crotch and he tightened his arms around her.

“Don’t do that,” He warned, and she smiled as she leaned her head back to nuzzle her cheek against his shoulder.

With a sigh, he kicked his shoes off and shifted in the chair until he was more comfortable, all the while continuing to hold Buffy against him.

“Good?” He murmured, ducking his head a little so he could look into her eyes. She nodded against his shoulder, a sleepy smile on her face, and she rested her hand against his cheek for a long moment.

It was enthralling to be curled up with him like this, with his manly arms and his manly legs and his manly chest - sometimes she forgot how much bigger than her he was. Tall and broad and lean, except for the deliciously comfy little pudge on his tummy, and the lovely curvy butt she hadn’t quite figured out how to compliment him on yet.

“Watcher-mine.” She sighed happily, and he kissed her gently before she slid her hand down to rest against his stomach, and they both settled.

**... ... ...**

  
  


Buffy followed Xander out of the school covertly, though it wasn’t all that difficult to anyway considering how distracted he was. As she figured, he went straight for Faith’s hotel room after classes were finished. Once Faith had beckoned him inside, Buffy lingered near the window, where the blinds were pulled shut but she could still listen in.

“I know what this is all about,” Faith was saying, “you just came by here ‘cause you want another taste, huh?”

“No!” Xander protested. “I mean, it was nice… it was great. …It was kind of a blur. But, okay, someday sure, yay - but not now. Not like this.”

“Well like how, then?” Faith returned, still sounding like she was coming on to him. “Lights on, or off? Kinks, or vanilla? You wanna play Watcher?”

“Faith, come on- I- …is that, some kind of uh, Slayer version of playing doctor? B-because that’s just - oh God, that just gave me images of Buffy and Giles that I don’t ever wanna think about again,” Xander complained in dismay and Buffy gaped in embarrassment.

“Oh please,” Faith scoffed, “Don’t act like such a prude. Like you haven’t noticed all the eye-sex whenever they’re in a room together.”

“What! No!” Xander yelped, and Buffy shifted to the door, ready to knock and interrupt the conversation where it was. “I-I-I’m here to help you, Faith,” He sounded desperate to change the subject, as well.

“Help me?” Faith repeated, as if he were being cute. “Well, there’s one way you can help me,”

Buffy heard a muffled thump, and then Xander was suspiciously quiet for long enough that Buffy decided to listen to the tell-tale uneasiness in her gut, and she burst into the room.

Faith was straddled over Xander on the bed, her hands half up his shirt, and he looked completely out of sorts - and scared.

“Hey, B,” Faith smirked over her shoulder. “Does your lover-man know you’re here? Wanna make Xander’s dreams come true?” She ground her hips down over Xander’s, and he squirmed in a futile attempt to get out from under her, grimacing.

“Faith!” Buffy shouted. “Pull your head out of your ass!” She could see the wildness in the other Slayer’s eyes, and she knew Faith was running on pure hunter-hormones now. “You really wanna  _ rape _ Xander?!”

Faith hesitated, her grin wavering but only for a moment.

“C’mon, it ain't like that,” She tried, but glanced back toward Xander, and his expression must’ve jarred her a little more into focus, because she sat up onto her knees, removing her hands from him. “It ain’t… I wasn’t gonna…” She seemed to war with her own discomfort and innate sense that she had irrefutably done something wrong.

She and Xander stared at one another for a long, tense moment, and then suddenly she was launching herself off of him, pacing the floor on the far side of the bed from Buffy.

“Get out.” She muttered, pushing her hands through her hair. Xander immediately scrambled to his feet and slipped behind Buffy, shakily trying to straighten out his shirt as he lingered by the door.

“Faith, please,” Buffy tried.

“Both of you! Get the fuck out!” Faith shouted, and Buffy immediately complied, pushing Xander out ahead of her.

Out of sight from the open doorway, Buffy met the eyes of the vampire lurking in the darkness beside the vending machines. Buffy pressed her lips together in dismay, but then gave him a nod. Angel slipped into the hotel room silent as a ghost, baseball bat held low by his side.

“Jesus,” Xander croaked, his eyes still wide with terror.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” Buffy soothed, resting her hand on his elbow. He twitched away from her, and she winced apologetically.

“I don’t- ” Xander scowled, and then grumbled, “I don’t want to go to that house. Can we go to the library, instead?”

“The others should still be there, researching the mayor,” Buffy replied agreeably.

They walked in silence together for a while; Buffy wasn't sure what to say to Xander that would make him feel better, so she resolved to wait and see if he would want to talk about it on his own.

“What was Fang-Boy doing there?” Xander eventually wondered, rubbing his fingers against the bruises already beginning to form around his throat.

“A… plan, Giles and I came up with. I figured Angel might be about the only person who really knows what Faith is going through, and isn’t too close to the situation to be blinded by anything. Giles agreed, and suggested that we plan on her being… um, held, at the mansion for a little bit. At least until Angel can maybe get through to her.”

“You and Giles.” Xander repeated in an odd tone of voice.

“Yeah,” Buffy hesitated, wondering if she should bring up the fact that she’d heard what Faith had said, or hope that Xander would just forget about it; maybe write it off as the ravings of a pissed off Slayer.

“He’ll always be your Watcher, huh.” Xander sounded pleased about this, and Buffy relaxed, marginally.

“Always.” Buffy confirmed seriously.

When they made it to the library, however, Wesley was there as well, and Buffy could only watch his double-take toward Xander and then his exclamation of surprise,

“What in the world happened?”

Willow’s and Giles’ attention were drawn toward Xander as well, and he ducked his head as he covered his throat with his hand and shuffled over toward the stairs, sitting and curling his arms around his knees.

“Giles,” Buffy approached her Watcher without hesitation, “it’s started. Angel has her.”

“Good.” Giles replied, half-relaxing. His eyes worriedly darted toward Xander again, however.

“Faith,” Buffy softly confirmed his unspoken question. “She stopped before… before it got too bad, but she still…” She was immensely worried, and Giles grasped her shoulder supportively.

“It was a good decision, Buffy. Angel will be able to get through to her, I’m sure of it.”

“Get through to whom?” Wesley asked suspiciously, stepping toward them. “What have you two concocted now? Need I remind you that you were explicitly ordered not to interfere, Mr. Giles, and with one call to the Council I can- ”

“You can what?” Buffy interrupted him warningly, spinning around to advance on him, narrowing her eyes. He froze, but Buffy continued to close the distance between them, challenging, “You’ll do  _ what _ ?”

“Buffy,” Giles warned tiredly, but Buffy didn’t stop until she was toe-to-toe with Wesley, and he was leaning slightly back from her, swallowing nervously.

“If you want even a  _ chance _ of earning my respect, of becoming a part of this team, then the first thing you should learn is to  _ never _ threaten  _ my Watcher _ .”

Wesley swallowed again, working his jaw for a moment until he had the nerve to respond to her.

“Mr. Giles is not recognized by the Council- ”

“Fuck the Council.” Buffy interrupted.

“Buffy!” Giles exclaimed, more at the language than at the phrase itself.

“Buffy!” Willow said at the same time, amazed.

“Buffy,” Xander also said at the same time, approving.

Wesley’s eyes flashed for a moment, narrowing slightly, and he pursed his lips. Buffy raised her eyebrow, but then froze in confused surprise as Wesley leaned down to mutter in her ear,

“It seems to me  _ the Council  _ is not the one  _ getting fucked _ , hm?” He slowly straightened again, and Buffy gaped at him with wide eyes, mostly at the fact he’d repeated her curse. His lip twitched, a brief glimpse of his cocky attitude at his supposed win, and Buffy closed her mouth.

“That won’t work for you,” Buffy warned him lowly, and he lifted his chin.

“If I tell them your…  _ friendship _ with Rupert Giles is interfering with your duties as the Slayer, then it most definitely will work for me.” He replied. “Now,” He spoke in a normal tone of voice again, shifted his shoulders, and straightened his suit jacket with a sharp tug. “Explain to me what the vampire is involved in.”

Buffy grimaced, glancing toward Giles for his opinion. They knew they wouldn’t have been able to hide this from Wesley forever, but they would have preferred he find out maybe  _ after _ Faith had come to her senses.

“The deputy mayor was murdered,” Giles announced in a detached tone, “during an altercation with a group of vampires.”

“A vampire?” Wesley frowned. “The coroner’s report said that there were wooden splinters in the man's chest. Are you saying that a vampire used a stake on a human… and  _ didn’t _ drink his blood?”

“No,” Buffy sighed, moving to stand close to Giles again as she took over the explanation. “A Slayer used a stake on him.” Wesley’s eyes widened slowly, and his face drained of color as he stared at Buffy as if he’d never been more terrified than he was at this moment. “Faith and I were fighting a group of vamps in the alley, and then, Finch just appeared out of nowhere, and Faith…”

“...Faith stabbed him before either of the girl’s realized he was human.” Giles finished when Buffy didn’t.

“Oh, dear heavens.” Wesley gasped quietly, turning on his heel to twist away from them as he lowered his head to stare at the floor for a minute. The color returned to his face, but he still looked terrified and worried. “The- the Council, they should be called, this is a serious matter,” Wesley stammered, turning to face the phone on the check-out counter, and Buffy shifted toward it and yanked it away, the cord tugging out of the wall as she clutched the phone against her chest.

“Normally, I would agree,” Giles conceded, not reacting to Buffy’s violence with his phone, calmly wiping his handkerchief against his glasses. “But not in Faith’s case. She has a history of rebellion and we all know how the Council treats people with those proclivities.” He gave Wesley a dry look. “Besides that, she’ll only see it as a threat, as a sign of distrust, as betrayal. We must handle this with care,”

“There are  _ consequences _ ,” Wesley hissed. “Every situation in the past has been handled, rightfully, by the Council. A Slayer cannot be held above the law!”

“In that sense, I actually agree with you.” Buffy admitted, setting the phone down on the research table and folding her arms across her chest. “But I tried making that exact argument with her. She wouldn’t have it. So this… this is her best option.” Buffy paused for a moment, looking at Xander, who was now sitting up but looked extremely exhausted. “If this doesn’t work out, then we’ll take her to the airport ourselves. But Faith is… she’s a good person, at the end of the day.”

Xander huffed a derisive noise, and Buffy sent him an apologetic look.

“When she’s in her right mind.” Buffy conceded. “She’s abrasive and hostile but at the end of the day she  _ knows _ what the job is. And before this, she was… she was coming around, becoming a real part of the team. She deserves to be given a chance. No one else has ever given her one before.”

Wesley was quiet and contemplative for a moment, and the other two wouldn’t quite meet Buffy’s eye, but Giles gave her a small, encouraging smile. Then, he turned toward Xander.

“May I get you anything?” He asked softly.

“Ibuprofen?” Xander winced. “Ice pack?”

“I’ll get the ice,” Willow jumped up, as Giles nodded and headed for the first-aid kit behind the counter.

Hesitantly, Buffy approached Xander, and he scooted over to give her room to sit next to him on the step.

“I’m not excusing what she did,”

“What she tried to do.” Xander interrupted, his eyes flashing for a moment.

“Right.” Buffy agreed lamely, ducking her head as she tucked her hands between her knees. “I’m sorry, Xander.”

“It’s not your fault.” Xander told her, more gently. “Anyway, you did try to warn me,”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” Buffy returned knowingly. “You care for her, you had hope for her.”

“... I still do.” Xander admitted. “The hope part, anyway, I mean.” He nudged Buffy’s shoulder with his own. “I’ve seen the way she’s been with guys around town, have heard all the stories about her pre-Sunnydale days. I should’ve known better.”

“You have a good heart, Xander. It’s your superpower, really.” Buffy gently quipped. “You can’t be faulted for that.”

“Thanks, Buff. And thanks for earlier, too.” He murmured.

Buffy nodded, and leaned her head on his shoulder. After a moment, he rested his head on top of hers, and when Willow returned with an ice-pack, Xander wrapped his arm around her shoulders to hold her against his opposite side.

“It’s a good thing she didn’t break any skin; I haven’t replenished the sutures in here yet after Buffy’s last altercation,” Giles mused as he approached the group with a glass of water and a couple of pills in his palm.

“Hm, thanks G-man,” Xander said as he accepted the offerings, and Giles managed to let the nickname go with only a distasteful look as he returned to the research table. Xander swallowed down the pills and the entire glass of water before he set the glass aside and looped his arms around both ladies. “You and Giles playing doctor lately, huh?” Xander quipped toward Buffy, and she tensed against him.

“Xander,” Willow snickered and wrinkled her nose in distaste, mostly amused, “I know what that means now!”

“Just the usual patrol patch-up,” Buffy muttered, hoping she wasn’t blushing as she glanced over to make sure neither of the Watchers heard Xander’s words. “I heard what Faith said about me and him, and- ”

“She was just trying to get under my skin.” Xander gently interrupted, sounding calm about it. “I know there wasn’t any basis to her comment.”

“What comment?” Willow wondered curiously.

“Ah, just Faith being Faith.” Xander verbally waved the subject away, and Buffy tried to fully relax. She had a feeling Xander wasn’t  _ that _ okay with the idea of her and Giles, but the fact he wasn’t pushing it now was a good sign.

“What are we to do in the meantime?” Wesley asked, looking adrift in the middle of the room as Giles slouched into one of the chairs at the table.

“We wait, until Angel brings word.” Giles sighed. “And we see what more we can dig up on the mayor.”

**... ... ...**

  
  


They were all half-asleep by the time Angel and Faith both showed up, slinking quietly into the library to find Willow and Xander leaning on the steps, holding one another up, Giles slouched in a chair with his head in his hand, Buffy in the chair next to his, her feet propped up on the edge of his seat, and Wesley in a chair off to the side by himself, his legs sprawled and his head hanging back.

Angel stood in the corner quietly as Giles made a fresh pot of coffee, and Faith quietly admitted that she wasn’t doing a-ok after all. She avoided looking directly at Xander, and vocalized her apology as if it were almost inconsequential, but they could all still see the sincerity in her body language and her eyes.

It would take more time, but she was on the right path now.

“We were attacked, on our way here,” Angel announced, and Buffy straightened fully in her seat at that, sitting forward in concern.

“By who?” Wesley was the one to ask, having only recently woken up. He righted his crooked glasses and grimaced as he stretched his neck side to side.

“Mr. Trick, and the other two stooges.” Faith grumbled. “They’re all dust, now.” She glanced toward Angel, and the look they shared made Buffy tilt her head curiously.

“Faith saved my life.” Angel informed them. Buffy nodded, smiling a little at that, pleased with the proof that Faith wasn’t all bark and bite.

“Now why’d you go and do a thing like that, for?” Xander sassed, shooting Angel a half-smile so that the vampire knew he was joking. …Probably joking. Sometimes, Buffy wasn’t so sure.

“Don’t know.” Faith grumbled, shrugging one shoulder. “Guess he saved my ass, and I owed him one. We’re debt free now, buster,” She gave Angel the side-eye. “I get one whiff of Evil-Boy and your toast.”

“I would hope so.” Angel replied genially, glancing toward Giles as the man reappeared from his office with his arms laden with a variety of coffee mugs and tea cups.

Buffy tried to rein in her worry that always whispered whenever she caught Angel looking at Giles. She could never quite read his expression when he did it, and that made her uncomfortable.

“So, the mayor knew where you were, and sent his men after you,” Wesley mused, and Faith nodded, reaching for her coffee immediately after Giles poured it.

“It gave me an idea,” She offered up, glancing around hesitantly before plowing forward, “to figure out what the guy is really up to. He’s missing a bodyguard, now, and I’m the perfect replacement.”

“Wait a moment,” Giles paused mid-pour of Buffy’s mug, and Faith shook her head at him before he could get started.

“I’m the inside man! I get on his good side, make him think we’ve all had a big falling out,”

“Not a big leap to make,” Xander muttered.

“He tells me all his plans for world domination or whatever, I pass on the information to you guys, wham-bam-thank you ma’am!” Faith finished, as if Xander hadn’t interrupted.

“Do you  _ really _ expect us to trust you- ” Wesley began, and Giles interrupted him, speaking loudly over him,

“The mayor wanted you dead, Faith. Do you have an escape plan? Some sort of form of contact so that you can keep us updated of your situation? So you can get word to us if you run into trouble?”

“I can handle myself.” Faith grumbled defensively, but then added, “If I’m going to be his new muscle, I figure he’ll first want me to take care of the Slayer situation sooner rather than later.” She glanced toward Buffy. “I can stretch that mission for a while,” She smirked a little. “We have worked together for a while now. We know each other’s moves. I imagine it’d take a long while for one of us to defeat the other…”

“And we can trade information while we trade blows,” Buffy followed, nodding, and neither Watcher looked very happy about the idea. Giles finished pouring Buffy’s coffee, however, and then Willow’s and Xander’s as well. “The mayor is up to something,” Buffy could read the tension in Giles’ shoulders a mile away, “and considering we saw how chummy he was with Mr. Trick, I can bet it’s a demony something.”

As they all slowly caffeinated themselves and prepared for the day, Angel slipped out before the sunrise, and the two Slayers worked out a schedule of communication so that if Faith failed to show up, they’d know something was wrong.

“I know you guys don’t trust me,” Faith glanced at everyone briefly as she got up from the table and headed for the main doors. “And maybe you shouldn’t. But I do know that the Slayer fights evil, and the mayor is evil. I’m on your side on this, and I’ll prove it to you.”

She walked out of the room without waiting on a reply, and the rest of them were silent for a beat.

“If I don’t get home for at least a couple of hours, Mom is gonna flip,” Buffy groaned, getting to her feet and grabbing her coat from the back of her chair. “She’s already called to fuss at me about last night.”

“What happened last night?” Willow wondered, and then winced. “Was I supposed to have covered for you? Did I forget?”

“Nah, Willow,” Buffy gave her a calm smile, and ignored the stiff way Giles was moving as he gathered her empty mug with his. “Giles and I just had a late research sesh and I ended up falling asleep here.”

“Where?” Wesley asked, oddly, and Buffy gave him a weird look.

“Here?” She repeated, generalizing the library.

“You and Giles?” Xander wondered.

“Yes, well, I think we  _ all _ should head home and get what little sleep we can. Angel will continue to keep an eye on Faith, should she… stumble, again. There’s nothing more for us to do now than rest.” Giles sent them all a quick smile before disappearing into his office, saving himself from the looks that both Xander and Wesley were giving out.

Willow, at least, was focused on gathering her things. Xander looked a little suspicious, but more confused than anything else - it was Wesley that Buffy was concerned about. From his pressing question and his comment earlier, she knew that he had to have seen  _ something _ occur between her and Giles… she just wasn’t sure what. He was already so bothered about Buffy ignoring him as a Watcher; was it only that, or was it something more?  _ Had _ he actually seen them act anything more than friendly with one another?

“I’m guessing you want to know what Giles and I were researching?” Buffy remarked dryly as she passed Wesley, heading for the door. He hesitated, but then nodded as they met one another’s gaze.

“I’m getting tired of repeating myself.” Wesley huffed, mostly for show, as he walked with her. “I have a duty to perform here, just as you…” He trailed off as they exited the library, and Buffy quickly pushed him toward the nearest classroom, shoving him inside and closing the door behind them.

He looked affronted by the manhandling, but straightened his jacket quietly as Buffy folded her arms and glared at him.

“What do you want from me?” She demanded seriously.

“I want your respect.” Wesley huffed, and she shook her head.

“You don’t get that just ‘cause you wear tweed. Giles had to earn it and so do you.”

“Giles had to earn it?” He repeated dubiously, squinting at her. “I’ve read his diaries. It took no time at all before he was wrapped around your finger, much as he attempted to appear impartial in his writing.” Wesley snorted, as if this made Giles a lower being somehow. “And then he stopped hiding it entirely. And now- now the two of you bloody well flaunt it!”

Buffy raised her eyebrows, surprised by the show of emotion from Wesley, and then quickly frowned again.

“Flaunt what?”

“Your relationship. I don’t care if the Council is turning a blind eye - and frankly, I’m still perplexed as to why that is! It’s inappropriate, and I won’t have it!”

Buffy blinked at him.

“You won’t… have it?” She repeated lowly, and he swallowed nervously. “Even if Giles and I were in such a relationship that you’re implying,  _ you _ wouldn’t have a say in it at all!”

“Oh, please.” Wesley rolled his eyes. “You may think you’ve done well to hide it from everyone, but I saw you last night.  _ Fondling _ ,” He hissed the word, blushing, as if just saying it made him embarrassed, “in his office!”

“What!” Buffy exclaimed. “We were not- there was  _ no _ fondling!” Not that she would have turned down a bit of fondling, had it actually occurred… but Wesley didn’t need to know that.

“I can call the Council right now and have him deported for distracting your duties as the Slayer.” Wesley reminded her.

“I’m not distracted,” Buffy gave him an incredulous look. “And- and we were just cuddling!”

Inwardly, she flushed a little bit at the idea of ‘cuddling’ and ‘Giles’ in the same thought. It kind of made her feel giddy. She did her best to ignore that, and pointed her finger in Wesley’s direction.

“The Council ‘turns a blind eye’ because as jerkish as they want to be, they  _ know _ Giles and I do good work! We kill monsters, we find dangerous stuff, we stop the Hellmouth from opening. We make a great team, no matter what Quentin Travers and his merry band of assholes think. We’ve got the records to prove it.” She lowered her hand, took a breath, and narrowed her eyes at him. “And I think deep down -  _ having read Giles’ diaries _ \- you know that. I meant what I said in there. Threatening him is the exact opposite of earning my respect.”

Wesley stood there for a minute, thinking, until eventually he lifted his chin and relaxed his shoulders, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“I want included in on every plan you make. I want you to listen to me if I-  _ suggest _ a mission or particular area of patrol. I will be training with Faith, when she can get away from her current operation, and if at any point I request you to join us I expect you to listen. I  _ am _ your appointed Watcher, whether you like it or not, and I have my own duties to perform whilst living at the Hellmouth. The Council continues to want updates on the Slayer’s situation, and I cannot do that if I’m not involved.”

Buffy looked at him for a long moment.

“Keep Giles out of it. Whatever you tell them, whatever you write in your own journals - my relationship with Giles is private.”

“If it interferes- ”

“Private.” Buffy repeated herself more strongly, sliding half a step toward him, and he flinched back.

“Alright.” He begrudgingly agreed. They eyed one another warily for a moment, and then Buffy nodded. “But perhaps you should keep your…  _ cuddling _ off of school grounds?” He grimaced at the word.

She left him in the classroom without another word, trudging home feeling more weary than she had in days, even though she’d slept surprisingly well curled up on Giles’ lap- …which, alright, sounded worse than it really was…

Buffy felt her cheeks warm and she scuffed the toe of her shoe on the sidewalk. Their first real cuddle since, since probably the Cruciamentum, and Wesley had to have stumbled in on it? Ugh. She so did not want to be worrying over whether or not Wesley would be keeping his end of the deal.

And she had to admit that he was right… it was stupid to do something like that at the school. They were lucky a janitor or late-working teacher hadn’t seen them.

“Buffy?” And great - her mom was awake already.

“Hey, Mom,” Buffy greeted sheepishly as she stepped inside and locked the door behind her.

“Don’t tell me you guys had  _ another _ all-nighter researching?” Joyce exclaimed as she came out of the living room to meet Buffy in the foyer. “What do the other parents have to say about all this?”

“Um, actually, last night it was just- just me and Giles, so tonight, Willow’s parents didn’t have a problem - and, Xander’s, I mean, you know Xander’s parents…” Her babbling didn’t stop her mother’s gaze from sharpening or her arms from folding across her chest. “Listen, I’m uh, beat, and I’ve still got a couple hours I can sneak in a nap before school,”

“Buffy Anne Summers.” Joyce used her ‘Mom voice’ and Buffy winced as she trailed off. “You told me it was the whole gang with you in the library last night.”

“I- no, that was- I’m sure I said it was just us.” Buffy blinked innocently. “What’s the beef? Giles and I have Watcher-Slayer stuff to do, you know, the usual…” She trailed off again, when Joyce’s expression didn’t change.

“Mr. Giles is no longer your Watcher,” She raised her eyebrow. “Or did you forget that I was there when you told the others about what happened with the Council after that dreadful test?”

“I- I didn’t forget,” Buffy couldn’t help but be defensive, as she always did when someone made that claim. Giles  _ was _ her Watcher, in all the ways that mattered. “This new guy is a joke!” Buffy whined defensively. “Giles is the one that’s trained me for three years now! Giles is the one that’s fought beside me out there in the dark! Giles is the one that’s spent hours and hours and hours researching stuff for me so that I might survive the next time a big bad comes around! Giles is the one who patches me up when I’m hurt! Giles is the one that knows  _ me _ , Buffy, not just the Slayer!”

Buffy took a breath, and Joyce blinked and relaxed her features. Something else was in her eyes now, though, something that made Buffy hold her breath.

“I’ve been wondering, for a while now, how to approach this.” Joyce mused softly, and Buffy swallowed. “For a while I didn’t understand your relationship with him, and I suppose I still don’t, not fully. There are certain things that I’ve excused, exactly because of your duty you have and I know that he’s a part of that duty.” Joyce breathed in deeply, and looked Buffy directly in the eyes, her no-nonsense face on. “I’m going to ask you this just once, and I want a straight answer. When this whole town was under that spell, when we were all regressed to sixteen again because of that damned candy - did you have sex with Rupert Giles?”

Buffy stared at her mother in wide-eyed shock.


	9. Chapter 08

“Faith was wrong, you know.” Willow piped up from her spot on the floor beside Buffy’s bed. “When she told you that you were just like her? You know, with the bloodlust and stuff? She was wrong.”

“Of course she was,” Xander added supportively, stretched out beside Buffy on the mattress.

“We’re both Slayers,” Buffy half-reasoned, hesitantly.

“You stopped.” Willow interrupted her. “When you were saving me from… me, and you were about to stake… me, I shouted for you to stop and you  _ did _ . Immediately. Even though it was actually a vampire-me, you still stopped immediately when I asked you to.”

Buffy slowly relaxed as she recalled what Willow was describing, and her troubled feelings regarding her guilt about the deputy mayor seemed to finally melt away.

“Thanks, Willow.” Buffy smiled gently at her friend, and Willow smiled assuredly back before turning to face the old movie they were watching.

“Tell us more about this demon world you saw,” Xander wriggled excitedly on the bed, playing with a few strands of Willow’s hair. Buffy carded her fingers through a few strands as well, and she grinned as she gave a lock a gentle tug.

“Yeah, did I hear you say Giles was a badass?”

“Our Giles?” Xander snickered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he can kick butt when he really wants to - you guys should’ve seen him at the Bronze last night - but  _ badass _ ?”

“Oh yeah,” Willow nodded emphatically. “He was all… rough, and dark. No tweed for him! He led a group of the guys from school as demon fighters - Oz was there too!”

Buffy was still stuck on the rough and the dark, her fingers frozen in Willow’s hair.

“He’s the one who found you - dark version of you, anyway.” Willow informed Buffy. “He was more of a fighter than a Watcher, but when you showed up he seemed really excited to- ”

“Dark Buffy?” Xander wiggled his eyebrows. “Tell me more.”

“You had a scar!” Willow announced with amazement, tilting her face up to look at them, indicating across her lip.

“Did Giles have scars?” Buffy wondered, and Xander sighed.

“Still with this Dark Giles obsession - am I the only one interested in more Dark Buffy?”

“No, Giles had scruff.” Willow stated matter-of-factly, ignoring Xander’s comment, and Buffy found herself staring blankly toward her dresser as she tried to imagine that.

“Wow.” She mused.

“Wow is right,” Willow giggled, and then Xander made a fake gagging sound.

“Guyssss, come on!”

“You were a vampire,” Willow smirked teasingly at him, confirming his suspicions there. “Kind of badass yourself. But like, in an evil way.”

“Did I have scruff?” He asked hopefully, using his free hand to stroke his smooth chin and cheek.

“No,” Willow laughed.

“Bummer.” Xander pretended to glower. “Giles gets the scruff,  _ and _ the Slayer,  _ and _ saves the day? Why is that never me?”

“Giles got the Slayer?” Buffy blurted, and Willow tilted her head back again to raise her eyebrow at her. Xander turned to face her, pointedly moving slowly, a wry look on his face.

“Well, they were working together, sort of,” Willow frowned as she considered. “I think. I only saw them together once, in his apartment,”

“They were in his apartment?!” Xander squeaked, and Willow gave him the weird look this time.

“We’ve all been in Giles’ apartment before, Xander.” She reminded him.

“Yeah, but that’s not badass, scruffy Giles!” He whined, and Buffy pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“Actually, I’ve seen scruffy Giles before,” She remembered. Unfortunately, he’d also been drunk, terrified, and running from a demon that wanted him dead.

“You  _ have _ ?” Willow exclaimed, amazed and delighted.

Xander was quiet, but Buffy could feel him looking at her suspiciously.

“We all have,” Buffy pointed out innocently. “Eyghon?”

“Riiiight,” Xander realized, relaxing. Willow frowned, almost pouting.

“Well, that wasn’t the same. It was a scary situation and we were all distracted. Now,  _ badass _ scruffy Giles is something else,” She grinned toward Buffy who couldn’t help but grin back, and Xander dropped his face into the mattress and groaned loudly.

“Please stop!” He begged.

“Just teasing you, Xander,” Willow consoled him, and they all settled again as they focused once more on the tiny tv Buffy had dragged into her room.

Buffy was no longer paying any attention to the movie that was on, though.

Scruffy Giles, kicking ass and taking names… 

Yummy.

  
  


**— — —**

  
  


_ “I don’t think I like how often you go over to Mr. Giles’ apartment.” _

_ “But Mom, research! We can’t always be in the school library all the time! It’s already weird enough as is; kids think I’m some kind of book nerd.” _

_ “See, even your peers notice. Buffy, I understand that he’s… your Watcher - but you see, I say that and I don’t really get it! What is a Watcher, really?” _

_ “You know what Giles does, Mom. He trains me, he teaches me, he fights alongside me. Sometimes.” _

_ “And he patches you up when you’re injured, you’ve said that. Buffy… I just worry that- that your relationship might be becoming too… intimate.” _

_ “Intimate?!” _

_ “I understand you’re, you’re fighting a war, honey - but maybe they could send you a female Watcher?” _

_ “A female- Mom! Giles is the best Watcher there is! Don’t you want me to have the best Watcher, so I can have the best chance at making it to twenty-one?” _

_ “Oh honey, please don’t talk like that. You know I hate it when you- ” _

_ “You and Giles both. See? You know him better than you think. You’ve got stuff in common.” _

_ “Yes, I suppose we do.” _

_ “What- what makes you say that?” _

_ “We both love you. Oh, not in the same way, of course. He doesn’t love you like I do; he doesn’t love you like a parent.” _

_ “What makes you say that?!” _

_ “My  _ _ eyes _ _ , Buffy.” _

_ “Well… well, a Watcher isn’t a parent, so, I guess you’re right.” _

_ “Yes, he’s told me that too.” _

_ “What? When? Why?” _

_ “The two of you are… thick as thieves, Buffy. I just want you to be careful.” _

_ “Men and women can be friends, Mom, come on.” _

_ “But you’re more than friends, Buffy. You fight demons together, save the world together. I’ve  _ _ seen _ _ the two of you, uh, ‘out in the field’ working with one another. There is an intense bond between you and I don’t want you getting your teenaged hormones confused about it.” _

_ “Mom, trust me. I’m not confused about Giles, at all.” _

And she wasn’t, not anymore. She hadn’t been for some time, really.

Buffy kicked a rock down the road ahead of her, sighing as she watched other townspeople scurry through the cold out of the movie theater. Everyone else was out having Friday-night fun, but she was stuck in her memories going over uncomfortable conversations with her mother again and again.

“Buffy?” Angel appeared out of nowhere, as he usually did. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Buffy replied, only pretending to be perky. “What’s up?”

He hesitated, and then tilted his head in the direction she’d been walking, and she nodded. They strolled slowly down the street together, quiet for a few minutes.

“We haven’t really talked, one on one I mean, since… well, since your birthday I guess.” Angel noted, and Buffy winced as she realized that was true.

“We talked last month!” Buffy recalled, and Angel gave her a look.

“We talked about Faith.”

“Right… how’s she doing, by the way?”

“Playing her part well; the mayor seems to think he’s winning her over nicely. I think she and Xander had a talk, too - at least she told me that they did. From the way she talked about apologizing to him, I don’t think she was lying about it. But anyway, I’m not here to talk about Faith again. I’m here to talk about… Giles.”

“Giles?” Buffy frowned, annoyed. Why was everyone suddenly on her case about this? Sure, they sometimes still forgot about their kissing rule, but it wasn’t like they ever made out in the middle of the street. “Did my mom send you?” Buffy asked Angel suspiciously, trying to stop thinking about making out with Giles in the middle of the street. Or making out with him anywhere, really.

“Your mom?” Angel sounded confused.

“Nothing.” Buffy sighed. “What’s up about Giles?”

“Is everything all right between you two?” Angel wondered sincerely, and that certainly wasn’t what Buffy was expecting.

“Um… yeah?” She gave him an odd look, but then wondered, “Is this about the new Watcher? Look, I won’t lie - it’s weird, and annoying, and really frustrating - but we’re making do.”

“That’s… good to hear, but not what I mean.” Angel paused talking for a few more steps, and then said, “You were going over there a lot, to Giles’ I mean. At all hours, sometimes even before him and waiting for him to get home from school,”

“What are you, my dad?” Buffy snorted, and then she winced. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Lots of times without any of the others,” Angel continued, as if she hadn’t. “And always acting like you two’ve got some secret that no one else- ”

“Angel,” Buffy interrupted before he could take that any further. “You do know what happens on a Slayer’s eighteenth birthday, right?”

“The Cruciamentum,” He realized, suddenly looking relieved as it dawned on him. “That’s why Giles asked me to cover patrols that week… he told me you were sick, I didn’t even think…” He trailed off, and then gave Buffy a suspicious look. “You aren’t supposed to actually know about that test.”

“You really think Giles could’ve kept it from me?” Buffy snorted, and Angel conceded that.

“So the two of you were planning for it, is that it?”

“Yeah,”

“What about the dreams?” Angel pressed, quickly, and Buffy almost stumbled.

“That was- The First, and- those Bringers guys- and, and before my uh, before the test,”

“You share the same mark,” Angel murmured, briefly sliding his fingers beneath Buffy’s hair, touching the back of her neck, and she flinched away from his touch.

“How do you know about that?” She demanded, quickly rearranging her hair, though no one else around them would’ve been able to see it. “Willow said it can only be seen by- ”

“I saw it in your dream. I guess because I was in your head, the tattoo was visible to me.”

“My dream… the uh, the one about- ”

“The one where you were having sex with Giles.”

“Oh my God.” Buffy came to a stop and buried her face in her hands, embarrassed although Angel was speaking very calmly. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Why do you have Eyghon’s mark? Did he do it to you? Why?” Angel frowned, sounding concerned, and Buffy shook her head.

“It’s the same mark, but it’s, uh, benign now. So’s Giles’. And he didn’t tattoo me - he was horrified to find out it’d been done. Ethan Rayne did it.” Buffy explained. “Not too long before Giles and you and everybody else showed up to save the day, actually.”

“Why do you still have it?” Angel wondered, still calmly curious. Like he was a third-party, simply gathering information. It unsettled her.

“I don’t know,” She grumbled, wanting to talk about something else.

“Is it because you like it? You like having something visible, physical, that connects the two of you? Something permanent?”

“What is this about?” Buffy frowned at him, folding her arms across her chest, refusing to acknowledge how that idea - while she hadn’t considered it before in full clarity - gave her that familiar giddy feeling now.

“You aren’t at his place as often anymore.”

“Are you  _ stalking _ me?” Buffy hissed. “Real creepy, dude.”

“I keep an eye on you, when I can, to make sure you’re safe.” Angel defended himself firmly and without remorse. “I want you to be happy, Buffy - just because I can’t be with you, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy… look, I just wondered if… is it the new Watcher? Is he causing problems?”

“Why?” Buffy raised her eyebrow and tightened her arms. “You planning on putting a hit out on him?”

“Only if you need me to,” Angel replied, half-grinning, and Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle with amusement at that idea. She sighed, and relaxed her posture.

“Wesley would love any reason to force Giles back to England,” Buffy admitted, “but we’ve come to a, um, agreement. I think.” She paused, hoping that were true, and then hastily added, “About my friendship with Giles! Because that’s what we are. Friends.”

“Buffy.”

“What?”

“I’m not an idiot.” Angel sighed. “Also, I’m a  _ vampire _ .” He raised his eyebrow at her. “I mentioned that dream, and your heart rate increased.”

“I was nervous!” Buffy defended herself. “My ex-boyfriend seeing a dream I’m having about another man,”

“And your skin flushed,”

“Embarrassment!” Buffy insisted. “I mean come on, I can’t help what my subconscious puts together! You know dreams are wacky sometimes.”

“And you were aroused, Buffy.” He finished pointedly, and she gaped wordlessly for a moment.

“Pavlovian!” She blurted, and he raised his eyebrow. “Well- well- it was a- a hot dream! So what! I could’ve dreamed about having long, thorough sex with anybody and I’d probably get a little warm under the collar thinking about it!”

Oh, hell, did she just say ‘long and thorough’  _ out loud _ ?

“Anybody?” Angel replied dubiously. “Principal Snyder?”

“Oh my God,” Buffy immediately gagged, and he nodded as if he’d made his point.

“Have you told him, Buffy? About how you feel?”

“Principal Snyder?!” Buffy blurted, and Angel gave her a look. “...What is this?” Buffy laughed nervously. This was super trippy that it was  _ Angel _ giving her this talk right now; Angel that still loved her, Angel that had lost his soul to her once and occasionally wrestled with the idea of doing so again.

“Don’t keep trying to deny it to me, Buffy; it’s obvious whenever you’re around him. It’s obvious because he makes you feel the same way that I still feel whenever I’m around you. Which also suggests that you haven’t… taken the next step.”

“What?” Buffy was still trying to catch up to the idea that Angel knew how much she loved Giles and not only did he seem fine with it now, but he was  _ encouraging _ it.

“Don’t worry.” Angel smiled a tiny bit, comfortingly. “I’m not gonna lose control, or be frustrated around you. You are my friend Buffy, and I know that we can’t be together anymore. I want to tell you this: no matter what Wesley does, or the Council tries to do, or anybody - you fight for him. For Giles.” Angel told her, sounding almost grave about it, and Buffy immediately straightened and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Is something going on? Is Giles in danger?”

“No. I just… I’ve had a lot of time to reflect these past few weeks. And… there’s a lot I don’t understand. But I do know it’s important to keep fighting. I learned that from you.” He smiled gently. “And no matter what happens, we keep going. ‘Cause there are things worth fighting for. Fight for him, Buffy, because I know he’ll always fight for you. He’s worth that, and he makes you happy. You deserve that.”

“You know something,” Buffy figured with growing concern. “Angel, what do you know? What’s going to happen?”

“What I know,” Angel spoke soothingly, rubbing his hands over her shoulders, “Is that you are driving yourself mad with this. Just let it be, Buffy. Sometimes, it’s okay to just feel.”

“How can  _ you _ be one of the only few people telling me that it’s  _ okay _ what I feel?” Buffy laughed without any humor.

“Hey, I’ve always supported your weird little Watcher kink,” Faith piped up from behind her, and Buffy winced and closed her eyes, refraining from dignifying the remark with a direct response.

“Patrol?” She asked tersely of Faith’s sudden appearance, and the other Slayer nodded, smirking.

“Council has you back on active duty?” Angel questioned in a conversational manner, pulling his hands back to himself.

“Finally.” Faith grumbled. “They want us down by Mercer,” She told Buffy, who nodded before facing Angel again.

“I never wanted to rub your face in this,” She murmured under her breath, and he gave her a tight smile, understanding.

“I know you didn’t. And I don’t feel that you are. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

They parted ways, and Faith at least managed to wait until Angel was out of earshot before she spoke up again,

“Gotta tell you B, the will-power thing? Nice job.” She sounded legitimately impressed.

“Thanks,” Buffy replied, distracted. Had Angel ever actually seen her with Giles, during those times they hadn’t been very good about following the rules? Or was he still going off of what he suspected, without any real evidence? He sounded pretty confident about it. “What?” Buffy asked of Faith, realizing she’d missed something.

“The close-but-no-cigar deal with Giles. I don’t know if I could handle, you know, the way that you’re ‘not handling it’,” She snickered a little, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

“How much of our conversation had you heard?” She groaned, and then said, “Faith, when it comes to Giles, do me a favor.” Buffy noticed the shadows move behind Faith, and realized there was a demon approaching. “Duck!” She shouted, and Faith did without question, giving Buffy room to swing a punch at the guy and send him reeling against the nearest mausoleum wall.

“Ow! Ohh, what are you, nuts?! Going around punching people?!” Well, that was a new one. A demon that spoke clear English. With a New York accent.

“People?” Buffy mocked, flicking his hat off and revealing the small horns on his head.

“So what, I’m a demon, that makes it okay?” He whined, and both girls whipped their stakes out threateningly, pointy-end toward his chest. “Woah, woah!” He flinched back and held his hands up in the air. “Stake me now, and you’ll never find out what I got for ya. Think about it; demon seeks slayers, highly unusual?”

Considering it for a moment, Buffy gave him a threatening shove and lowered her stake. Faith did as well, then warned him,

“Talk fast.”

“How’d you like to get your hands on The Books of Ascension, hm?” The demon grinned widely, like he’d just dropped gold in their laps.

  
  


**... ... ...**

  
  


“I’d like to know more about these Books of Ascension. Anything that would pin the mayor down would be great.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, “but where we gonna find five large?”

“Maybe Giles can figure out some other kind of equivalent to trade.” Buffy mused as they began to meander their way through the graveyard, and Faith rolled her eyes.

“Oh yeah, any reason to see your not-lover lover boy, huh?”

“Faith,” Buffy sighed.

“Anyway,” Faith continued as if changing back to the original topic of conversation was her own choice, “the dude said he wanted a plane ticket out of here. Not much else can buy you one of those except cash, unless you’re thinking of vortexing him away.” She waggled her fingers in the air as if she were doing some kind of voodoo.

“Maybe,” Buffy shrugged. “Willow did manage to bring a vampire version of herself here from another dimension.”

“Riiight,” Faith grinned. “Man, I miss all the fun.”

“It’s late, we might as well bring the gang in on it in the morning. Catch you later?”

“Sure- hey,” Faith grabbed Buffy’s arm before she could turn and head off in the other direction. “You think I should mention this to the mayor tonight? I’m supposed to stop by his office.”

“Hmm… I guess it couldn’t hurt? Maybe he’ll let slip what he wants with them. Just don’t, you know, push too hard.”

“Obviously.” Faith rolled her eyes, and then stepped away. “Have fun with your Watcher!” She sing-songed like it was a pet name, and Buffy glowered.

“I’m going  _ home _ , Faith.” She insisted toward the other Slayer’s retreating back.

But when she was home nestled in her bed, fast asleep, in her dreams she  _ was _ having fun with her Watcher.

In the morning, she blamed her mother, Angel, all of them for influencing her subconscious. She’d been doing fine with the repressing! More or less.

Okay, so maybe Angel had been right in her going a little mad because of all of this. But come on! Spastic teenaged hormones weren’t the end of the world, right? And she’d actually faced the end of the world. More than once. She could face Giles this morning.

Totally.

**... ... ...**

“I have something important to ask you,” Cordelia waited for no greeting as she strolled into the library and straight up to Wesley.

“Important?” Xander snarked. “Let’s start calculating those odds, people.”

Cordelia looked at him blankly, then looked back to Wesley, and smiled sweetly at him.

“What are you doing Friday night?” She asked, and as he stammered, Willow slowly turned an uncomfortable and surprised expression toward Buffy, who returned the look with equal intensity.

Was Cordelia… doing what it sounded like she was doing?

“A-as always my- my sacred duty as- as a Watcher… prevents me from… why?” Wesley spoke nervously as Giles stood very still and could only stare in consternation at the conversation happening within two feet of him.

Buffy would’ve laughed at his discomfort, but she was too busy being shocked by what was happening.

“I have a paper to write, for English,” Cordelia began, “annnd… you’re English! So I thought,” She laughed nervously, then glanced toward the table as she felt the weight of everyone’s stare. “What? Is it so wrong to be getting an insider’s perspective?” She defended herself to them, then turned toward Giles and pointed at him, then to Wesley, “If  _ he _ can hang out with  _ Buffy _ , why can’t  _ he _ hang out with  _ me _ ?”

“We don’t hang out!” Buffy butt in a little too quickly and a little too defensively, and now Willow was giving  _ her _ the weird look. Giles closed his eyes, snapped the book closed in his hand, and tugged his glasses off his face.

“Sure you do, all Watcher-Slayer you guys are,” Xander cooed as if they were cute, his eyes a little too sharply knowing for Buffy’s comfort.

“What, you expect me to believe you just stared at opposite walls, not speaking, the entire time you were in L.A. together?” Cordelia snorted, rolling her eyes, and Buffy blanched.

“ _ In L.A.? _ ” Willow repeated in complete surprise. “Last summer L.A.?!”

“Wait a minute, you were with her in L.A.?” Xander demanded of Giles, and Buffy slunk down into her seat.

“But Giles spent all summer looking for you. He knew you were in L.A.?” Willow was confused. “He was  _ with you _ in L.A.? For how long? How come you never told us? Was there some weird demon emergency? Did the-” Willow gasped, “Did the Council  _ kidnap _ you guys?”

“Oh, dear Lord.” Giles grumbled from behind his hand.

“I study best in a good restaurant, around eight-ish?” Cordelia leaned in close to Wesley again, ignoring the panic that she’d created. “Think it over?”

Wesley just stared at her, his mouth open, and she gave him one more smile before turning on her heel and flouncing off.

“And on the day the words ‘flimsy excuse’ were redefined, we stood in awe and watched.” Xander commented in disturbed amusement, watching her go before turning back toward Buffy. “And example number two of said definition,”

“Excuses? Who’s speaking of excuses?” Buffy butt in quickly. “We’re speaking about demons with books and where to find five thousand dollars.”

“Right.” Wesley blurted nervously. “Books of Ascension. Mayor. Slaughter.” He paced for a moment, and then seemed to gather himself.

Buffy glanced up as Giles turned to look at her, and she smirked and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the aghast expression on his face. His eyes narrowed just slightly at her, and her smile wavered. She gave him an apologetic look and a tiny shrug, to which he silently sighed and let it go.

In all reality, L.A. was probably where it all started… but technically, it  _ hadn’t _ started yet, so talking about it shouldn’t be a problem if the others really started hounding her. She just didn’t really want to… that time was something special between them, something that was all theirs. Buffy wanted to keep it that way.

**... ... ...**

After persuading the demon to let them borrow the Books of Ascension for a while (with only a little roughing around needed), Faith had Buffy hurry the books back to the library, as neither of them wanted her to be caught carrying them around town just in case the mayor had eyes on her. Meanwhile, she went back to Angel’s to chat some more about being fellow murderers, or whatever (Buffy really didn’t want to think too hard about what Faith and Angel might chat about during their bonding sessions).

Giles was beside himself over the books, like a puppy given a new ball toy. Something about them being in great condition, first-editions, blah blah… they hadn’t yet figured a single thing out about the mayor, so this was a huge win.

Buffy left him to his drooling, too uncomfortable with herself and the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking how adorable he was, bouncing around the library, cross-referencing with Willow at his side, who was almost just as excited.

In any case, they needed to be quick about it, because they needed to stage an attack with Faith soon where she would break in and steal the books to take them to the mayor. It wasn’t time to break her cover yet, and he wouldn’t put up with not having them in his possession for very long.

“Hey Xander,” Buffy called out, lingering by the doors. He yanked his head up from his hand, where he’d been dozing in his chair. “Doughnut run?”

“Oh, the magic words!” He hopped to his feet and rubbed his hands together as he joined her. “Now it’s a real research party!”

“Don’t forget extra jellies, this time!” Willow called out teasingly, and Buffy immediately jerked her gaze toward Giles, to find him looking right back at her.

His eyes bored into hers for a moment, but then a shy smile slowly adorned his face, and he ducked his head to hide it behind the book in his hands and turned back to the table.

Buffy grinned, and looped her arm around Xander’s as they headed out into the hall together.


	10. Chapter 09 (Earshot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicization within otherwise normal sentences still indicates emphasis, however in this chapter the full lines of italics represent the thoughts that Buffy is hearing.

“Oh God, I can’t stop thinking about it, Giles.” Buffy moaned.

“What’s that?” He wondered distractedly, lazily spinning a spoon around in his mug.

“The demon! What aspect I’m gonna get!” She flopped into the chair beside him and covered her face with her hands. “And then Willow asked if it was a boy demon, and- Giles! I can’t have a penis!”

He spluttered out the sip of tea he’d been drinking, and stared at her incredulously as he fumbled his handkerchief from his pocket.

“I can’t!” Buffy repeated, almost wailing. “ _ You _ have a penis!”

_ Buffy thinks about my penis? _

Buffy startled into silence, staring at him. He was still cleaning droplets of tea off of his mouth and the table in front of him, not noticing her perplexed expression.

_ Hm, heh, I wonder if she ever- oh good God, stop thinking about Buffy and your penis! _ Giles squirmed uncomfortably in his chair and yanked his glasses off his face, flipping his handkerchief to a dry side and furiously rubbing the lenses.

“Giles!” Buffy frowned, accusatory, and he startled again, looking up at her.

“Hm?” He wondered nervously.  _ Is she still thinking about my penis? I wonder how often she- dear Lord, she’s looking at my lap now. Um- the, um- the Books of Ascension, have uh- fuck. Latin! Uh, a minore ad maius. ...amo ut amem te… volo voluptatem… Christ, man, think of different Latin! _

“Giles,” Buffy groaned in dismay and slouched in her chair again, once more covering her face with her hands. Her cheeks were burning hot now, a mixture of sheer embarrassment and sudden arousal from the headiness of his thoughts. She might not have understood the phrases he’d been quoting in his mind, but she had a pretty clear idea of their theme. “I think I know what aspect of the demon I got.”

_ I don’t see any visible changes. …Heavens, could it really be a penis? Is that possible? That could be why there aren’t any clearer details written in the texts; the stuck-up old-  _

“Giles! Stop. Thinking. Now.” Buffy ordered desperately, and he looked at her incredulously.

“What is it, Buffy? Perhaps I can help,”  _ She seems more worried about how it would affect our relationship than how it actually affects her. She shouldn’t, really. Even if I can’t figure out how to fix this immediately, we could make do. It’s not as if I haven’t handled a penis, before. _

“They’re telepathic!” Buffy moaned in despair. “Mind-reading demons! Oh, God.” Now she couldn’t stop thinking of Giles and Ethan, of all people.

So  _ not _ who she wanted to be picturing Giles with in her mind.

“Telepathic? That’s…” His eyes brightened in amazement. “That would be… Are you reading my mind?” Giles frowned deeply, his interest turning into insult, and Buffy glared at him.

“Not on purpose!”

_ Could she hear me thinking about her and my penis? Oh, for fucks sake - she probably heard that. _ Giles groaned and pressed his fingers against his eyes.

“Yes, Giles, I heard all of it. Stop thinking about it!”

“I can’t help it!  _ You _ mentioned it first!” He protested defensively.

“Well I’m sorry I brought it up.” She grumbled, still blushing.

_ Brought it up, indeed. _

“Giles!”

_ Bloody hell. _

“I need to go,” He got up suddenly, his hand bumping into his mug and sliding it against the table enough that tea sloshed over the side of it. “I- I need to- ”

“Even your thoughts stutter,” Buffy grinned slowly, “that’s kind of cute.” She couldn’t help the racing of her heart at the thought that Giles had a  _ hard-on _ right now -  _ for her _ .

She bit her lip as she squirmed in her seat a little, her heart not the only part of her body reacting now. It took every ounce of her willpower not to check out his lap again for visual proof.

“Buffy, please,” Giles avoided looking at her as he hurriedly sopped up the mess with his already-stained handkerchief, blushing deeply.

“Eye-contact doesn't seem to matter, Giles.” Buffy pointed out. “How often do you think about that, anyway? God, you’re just like Xander!”

“I resent that comparison, thank you.” He huffed.  _ How often do I think about you? Often. Always. Especially when I’m alone. Especially when  _ _we’re_ _ alone. Like right now. God, how I yearn for you. Some days I think I’ll go mad. _

“Giles,” Buffy’s voice cracked at the emotion she could feel in the tone of his thoughts. “You should go into your office.” She gripped the armrests of her chair tightly, feeling quite a bit of yearning of her own.

“I should,” Giles agreed earnestly, turning on his heel and disappearing from sight.  _ Xander likely imagines boorishly. Not his fault, he’s only a teen. He doesn’t yet understand the art of a subtle touch… the brush of a finger, the touch of knees beneath a table, a particular and undeniable sort of gaze in one’s eye, _

Thankfully, distance seemed to quiet the sound of his thoughts, and Buffy heaved out a breath of relief.

“The- the tel-telepathy is- is a good distinction to- to study! I’ll just… stay here! And um, look it up!” Giles called out through the open door.

This revelation was weird and terrifying, but Buffy couldn’t help smiling a little bit to herself, pleased with the irrefutable proof that the happy feels weren’t only on her side of the relationship. Giles really  _ did _ want her as much as she wanted him.

“And I don’t have a demon penis!” Buffy called back.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Willow smirked as she entered the library, and Buffy winced and blanched.

“Willow!”

_ That would’ve been way of the weird. I wonder what it would’ve looked like, though? A normal one? Not that I know  _ _that_ _ much what they look like; the biology book is very basic - though, I have come across a few interesting diagrams in some of Giles’ books… Heehee, gotta remember to never tell Xander about those. Too many boobs, it’d be unhealthy for him… then again, some of the boobs were drawn pretty gorgeously, too… Hey maybe the demon penis would’ve been a weird color, like blue! Or green! Or had little-  _

“Lunchtime! Let’s go!” Buffy grabbed her bag and hopped to her feet before Willow could make it halfway across the room. “Willow, did you do the literature reading?” Buffy quickly begged, her words running over one another as she desperately wanted Willow’s track of thought to be  _ anywhere _ else.

“Oh!” Willow brightened, and smiled as she turned direction back around to walk beside Buffy as they headed into the hallway. “Yeah,”  _ I can’t blame her for missing her homework; this demon thing must be pretty worrisome. At least Giles is on the case. Giles is a genius; he’ll figure it out. _

“That’s not what you said earlier!” Buffy accused, and Willow startled.

“What? Huh- how did you… Did I accidentally talk out loud again when I didn’t mean to?”

“No, um…” Buffy trailed off, glancing around hesitantly as the head voices of other students around them began to drift through her mind. A lot of them were boring, wispy things; worries about tests and what would be for dinner and who-kissed-who. …And then, there were the guys.

Eugh.

Giles was right, they  _ were _ boorish. …If that word meant what she thought it meant.

**... ... ...**

_ The demons are telepathic, I should have known. That’s why they don’t need mouths. _

“Of course!” Giles shouted from his office. “The demons are telepathic!” He hurried out of his office and up to the second level, halting when he realized Buffy was standing there perusing the shelves.

“I told you so.” Buffy told him loftily, turning around and leaning her back against the bookshelf.

“Oh. Buffy.” Giles blinked at her for a moment, and then averted his eyes toward the shelf behind her. Surprisingly, Buffy didn’t hear anything else from him. Giles reached around her to snag a book from above her head, shifting it to his other hand before grabbing another. “I- I wasn’t certain if, if it had been true telepathy, or if you were merely, um, projecting your- your thoughts,”

“Projecting?” Buffy raised her eyebrow up at him, momentarily ignoring his nearness. “My thoughts? About myself and your penis?”

“Alright,” Giles flushed red, and glanced behind him for a moment to check that the library was still otherwise empty.

“You were right about one thing though,” She breezed on, not wanting to get stuck on that topic again either (as interesting as it was) “The boys in this school? Seriously disturbed.”

He raised his eyebrows in agreement, but then looked like he was considering something. Buffy couldn’t hear what it was, and she wondered exactly how this new power of hers worked.

“This is astounding,” He admitted, that nerdy glint lighting up his eyes, and Buffy was just glad  _ he _ couldn’t read  _ her _ mind. So not cool to think nerdiness was adorable. That was  _ not _ a swoonable trait, no way… 

“It’s… weird, but Giles, think about it,” Buffy admitted, considering. “I mean, think about what I could do.” Her eyes lit up as well as she considered actually bringing up the subject of their relationship again. Maybe, she could get him thinking about how he yearned for her again, and she could sneak a peek at a few of his fantasies… for future purposes.

“It could be very useful,” He agreed with growing excitement, his hand still outstretched beside her, resting on the book spines as he grew distracted from his search. Buffy’s smile widened. “You could anticipate your opponent’s every move, and, and, turn his plans against him.” Buffy rolled her eyes fondly at him, ever the Watcher.

“Oh, way better than that.” She knocked the books in his other hand to the floor, and he startled.

“Buffy!”  _ What the devil was that for? _ His thoughts were confused, annoyed, and a little insulted, but Buffy ignored all that as she grabbed the open edges of his waistcoat and yanked him firmly against her, trapping herself between the bookshelf and his body. He grunted at the impact, and she tilted her chin up to grin cheekily at him.

“Tell me, Mr. Giles, what are you thinking right now?” She asked innocently.

“Buffy,” He scolded, but his thoughts were louder to her,  _ Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. Christ, I want you. I want you so bad… I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad… _

“Are you singing The Beatles?” Buffy blurted in surprise, and he swallowed nervously, his chin dipped to look at her but his head held back as much as he could manage, to put some facade of distance between them.

“Buffy, this is a direct violation of the six-inch rule.” Giles informed her seriously, and she sent him a half-grin, shifting up on her toes a little, sliding against him.

_ Oh. _ His thoughts seemed to drift away for a moment, and Buffy hesitated, wondering if it was the powers waning or maybe he was trying to block her out somehow.

Then she felt the bulge in his trousers, and she sucked in a soft breath in surprise.

_ God, she’s so warm. And strong. My Slayer. _ His fondness for her made her heart melt, and managed to clear some of the dirtier thoughts from her mind - though he was still partially aroused, and his body was still almost fully against hers.

“Ugh, you’re tall,” She complained, stretching to brush her lips against his neck above his collar. “Help me out, here.”

_ The table would be much better for this. It’s the perfect height. Set her on the edge, her legs wrapped around my back, I wonder if she’s wearing any panties beneath that skirt, _

“Jesus,” Buffy pawed at his tie as she kissed his neck harder, with a little nip of her teeth, rousing a shudder out of him.

Then both of his arms were surrounding her, leaning on his elbows against the bookcase, his mouth hungrily devouring hers as he leaned all of his weight against her. She couldn’t help but writhe against him, eager with his loss of control, and she hummed with delighted surprise when he returned the favor with a nudge of his hips.

Her mind was a swirl of arousal and disjointed words, and she wasn’t sure which thoughts were hers and which were Giles’. She could feel his mild hard-on growing firmer, and she grabbed onto the back of his shoulders as she lifted her legs around his waist, satisfying both of their desires.

“Bloody hell,” Giles moaned throatily, his voice suddenly mirroring the accent of his childhood, as his hands slid over her knees to bunch her long skirt up out of the way, so she could tighten her legs around him more securely. His fingers felt like hot electricity on her skin, and Buffy tilted her head away from his as she tried to catch her breath. He immediately bent to attack the curve of her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone.  _ Lovely, _

“Giles,” Buffy murmured, shifting a hand so she could card her fingers through the ends of his hair at his nape.

_ My Buffy, you taste divine, _ The thought was followed with a slow swipe of his tongue across her collarbone, and she smiled as she rubbed her cheek against his hair.  _ I can only imagine- Christ, if you weren't wrapped around me right now I’d drop to my knees and go down on you until you couldn’t walk.  _ His right hand slowly slid further up her thigh, beneath the rumpled edge of her skirt.

“ _ Giles. _ ” She felt her cheeks go red, but she couldn’t quite say whether it was embarrassment, exactly.

“Hmm?” He slipped lingering butterfly kisses up her neck, over her jaw, reaching her mouth where he peppered a few more. He used his grip on her legs to shift their hold from his waist to lower on his hips, until she could feel his arousal again, this time pressing right against the wet crotch of her panties.

If he wasn’t holding her up right now, she’d likely be a puddle on the floor.

_ Bloody hell, that heat,  _ He pressed his hips harder against hers, as if somehow the layers between them could just spontaneously disappear, and the pressure against her groin made lights dance behind her eyes.

She moaned, almost a desperate whine, the sound escaping louder than she intended and out of her control. One hand gripped the back of his head and he gasped, straightening his head back and meeting her eyes.

Dimly, she became aware again of where they were, and what time of the day it was. She pet through his hair more gently, smoothing it down, and the dazed, hooded look in his eyes almost made her clutch him closer again. She managed to keep her cool, somehow, even as she could still feel the hard length of him through their clothes.

Slowly, she maneuvered her legs from around him and he let her, settling back onto her own two feet and sliding her hands down to rest against his front. His heart was pounding in his chest.

“I should go… I so do not want to, but I should.” Buffy told him longingly, and he blinked a couple of times before nodding, looking like the blood still wasn’t flowing much upstairs. “I’m sorry I…” She glanced down toward his trousers, and bit her lip at the obviousness of his arousal. “Before I go, I do want you to know,” She met his gaze directly, again. “I want you, too. So much.” She rubbed her thumbs against his shirt for a moment, and then slid her arms around his back and hugged him tightly, burrowing her face against his chest. “So much it scares me.” She whispered.

“Buffy,” His voice was rumbly and made her shiver. He hugged her in return and nestled his mouth against her hair. “I don’t need to be able to read your mind to know that… but it is nice to hear,”

“You don’t?” She mumbled into his shirt, and he brushed one of his palms against the back of her head.

“You tell me in other ways.”

“I  _ do _ ?” Buffy leaned back, mortified, and Giles smiled warmly.

“It’s a good thing.” He assured her, looking not quite as distracted anymore. He closed the distance between them again to press his mouth against her forehead. “It scares me, too.” He hummed.

“You didn’t  _ sound _ scared,” She muttered, and his body shook with a silent laugh.

“You bloody terrify me, luv.” He gently stepped away from her at arm’s length, his hands resting on her shoulders. “In the best way.”

“You confuse me.” Buffy furrowed her brow, and he nodded in agreement.

“That, too.” He took a deep breath, and then lowered his hands. “Buffy, I would l-like to study this telepathy a bit more, to see how- how long it will last, how to- to reverse it… we don’t know yet the long-term effect this might have on you. And- and… I admit, it’s rather har- uh, hard to focus, while you- you’re here.”

Slowly Buffy smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes at her, but a smile played on his lips too. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, clearly trying to rearrange himself without calling too much attention, and Buffy helpfully looked down at herself and focused on straightening out her skirt.

“I need to go see Angel, anyway,” She replied, rolling her shoulders and taking a refreshing breath before meeting Giles’ eyes again. “Get him to find the other demon for me. I don’t want to risk… any other aspects being uh, bestowed upon me.”

Giles giggled before he could control himself, and then cleared his throat and nodded, approving her plan.

“Be safe.”  _ I love you.  _ His eyes were still all dark and warm, and if she kept standing here they were gonna wind up right back where they were a minute ago.

She beamed at him, and reached for her jacket she’d earlier discarded on a nearby chair.

“See you later, Watcher-mine.”

  
  


**... ... ...**

  
  


“So then we can just send this thing back from whence it came!” Buffy finished telling Angel, and then winced. “Ugh, listen to me. ‘From whence it came’? I’m talking like Giles.”

She paused, looking at Angel as he sat on the couch next to her, but he only glanced toward her before leaning back against the cushion and rubbing his hand tiredly through his hair.

“I uh, I must hang around him too much.” Buffy laughed a bit awkwardly. Angel kept his gaze toward his knees, apparently unaffected. And his mind was still eerily silent. “But, you know, everybody’s telling me that anyway. You, my mom, Xander, Wesley - though I think Wesley is just jealous. Giles is still the one I go to for Watcher stuff.”

“That’s good.” Angel murmured. “Giles knows you better.”

“Giles  _ does _ know me,” Buffy agreed, nodding. “Giles knows me better than anybody.” She was rambling a bit, but she remembered her point and narrowed her eyes in Angel’s direction.

Nothing.

“Honestly Giles knows so much- ”

“You can’t get into my mind.” Angel quietly interrupted her, turning to face her, and she stared at him for a beat.

“How did you- …Why not?” She wondered suspiciously.

“It’s like the mirror. The thoughts are there, but they create no reflection in you. …So, you got your aspect of the demon.” He pushed to his feet and strolled toward the empty fireplace. Buffy sighed and leaned back against the couch cushion, folding her arms loosely across her chest.

“Yeah. Giles doesn’t know how long it’s gonna last, but, s’okay. A little headachey, but okay.”

“You don’t have to play games with me, Buffy. Ever.” Angel assured her calmly, leaning back against the wall and folding his hands together in front of him, the perfect image of cool and collected.

“Well, you’re not exactly Joe-here’s-what-I’m-thinking.” Buffy muttered.

“So ask me.”

“Oh but that would have made sense.”

“What do you wanna know about?” Angel sighed. “Giles? How I feel about him? Having to stand back and watch you pine over him?”

“I don’t pine.” Buffy pouted. Well… she didn’t pine much. “But since you bring it up…”

“I’ve told you this, Buffy. I hate the idea of hurting you, more than I can stand.” Angel told her sincerely. “I can’t watch you guys and cheer for your relationship, but, I’m not going to get in the way of it. I’m not going to hurt him, because I know hurting him is the same as hurting you. …Angelus knew that, too.”

They were both silent for a moment, and eventually Angel came back over to sit next to her on the couch.

“I know you care about him, Buffy. I know you worry. You don’t have to, not about me.” Angel assured her. “Just… be careful with this gift. A lot of things that seem strong, and good, and powerful… they can be painful, too.”

“Huh, like, immortality?” She lightly sassed, and he nodded.

“Oh, exactly. I’m dying to get rid of that.”

“Funny.” She drawled, and his dead-pan was even drier,

“I’m a funny guy.”

**... ... ...**

“She can read our minds?” Xander repeated, horrified. “Our every impulse and fantasy?”

“Every one.” Buffy replied, glancing briefly in Giles’ direction. She was sitting on top of the table while most of the other Scoobies sat in chairs around it, and she couldn’t resist subtly stroking her fingers against the wood beside her leg.

_ Hmm… _ Giles cut that thought short before it really got started, took his glasses off of his face immediately, and looked away from her. Buffy smirked.

_ Oh God. _ Xander was horrified.

_ I don’t see what this has to do with me. _ Cordelia thought, just before speaking aloud the same thing. Buffy’s smirk widened with amusement. Apparently Cordy really did speak her mind.

“Well, I think it’s great, right?” Willow tried to be supportive. “I mean, you enjoy your other Slayer powers.”

“Yeah it’ll be fun,” Buffy chuckled. “And did you see Nancy Doyle’s face in English class today?”

“Yeah,” Willow grinned, impressed.  _ She’s hardly even human anymore. How can I be her friend now? She doesn’t need me. _ Her thoughts were louder than whatever it was she was saying, and Buffy couldn’t help but assure her,

“No! I do need you.”

Willow winced, and then ducked her gaze.

“Okay… what are you talking about? ‘Cause you are so creepy right now.” Cordelia looked at Buffy like she was crazy.

“I- I think there must be uh, some precedence for occurrences such as this - I’ll, I’ll research it.” Giles hurriedly interrupted. “Wesley, can you give me a hand?”  _ Buffy, I know you can hear me, and stop what you’re doing this instant. _

“Of course,” Wesley replied, “where do you think we should start?”

Buffy sighed as she heeded Giles’ order and stopped stroking the table, and tucked her hands into her lap. She then glanced toward Oz, curious as to what the silent marathon man could be thinking about.

_ I am my thoughts. If they exist in her, Buffy contains everything that is me, and she becomes me. I cease to exist. _

“Hm.” Oz grunted aloud with a slight frown. Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise, but Xander’s worrying quickly took the forefront again.

_ What am I gonna do? I think about sex all the time. Sex. Help! Four times five is thirty. Five times six is thirty-two. Naked girls. Naked women. Naked Buffy. Oh- stop me! _

“God Xander!” Buffy had so called it earlier. “Is that really all you think about?”

“Actually?” He tried to be coy, but then froze for a second.  _ I wonder what Faith really meant by ‘playing Watcher’. What does that entail? Why does Giles keep staring at Buffy when he thinks no one is looking? _ “Bye!” Xander shouted, leaping to his feet and hauling ass out of the library.

“Xander has just illustrated something,” Wesley announced wryly, and when everyone’s attention - including Buffy’s - turned toward the Watchers, Giles practically moved as fast as Xander had, hiding up in the second level. “The chances are, you’re all going to be thinking whatever you least want Buffy to hear.”

Buffy glanced toward the retreating Watcher, but tried to focus on Wesley instead. Giles deserved his privacy, and besides that, Buffy didn’t want to get distracted again. Especially not with a room full of Scoobies.

“It’s a question, of course, of mental discipline.” Wesley told them a bit haughtily.

“He’s right,” Giles called down, tapping his fingers across the spines of a few books on the very shelf he’d had Buffy pinned against earlier in the day.

Oh, if only he  _ could _ read her mind. Buffy grinned to herself.

_ Look at Cordelia. No! Don’t look at Cordelia. _

God, Wesley’s thoughts were loud enough to overpower Giles talking, which Buffy found kind of annoying. She’d obviously rather be listening to Giles’ voice than Wesley’s awkward… awkwardness.

_ She’s a student. Oh, I am bad. I’m a bad, bad man. _

Growing amused, Buffy tucked her chin against her hand and leaned forward as she focused directly onto Wesley, who at this point had squeezed his eyes closed in consternation.

_ I’m worse than Giles! At least Buffy is his Slayer; that sort of relationship rather lends itself to intimacy-  _ Wesley opened his eyes suddenly, realized that Buffy had heard all of that, and worked his mouth for a moment before managing a stoic, “Excuse me.” He turned on his heel and walked into the office without looking back.

“What’s it like, Buffy?” Willow wondered, after having watched Wesley’s exit.

“I don’t know, I mean, it’s a little weird but... look - please don’t for a second think that I don’t need you, because I do, and I wanna share this with you. It’s like… all these doors are opening to all these little worlds, and I can just walk right inside.”

_ No one else exists, either. Buffy is all of us. We think, therefore she is. _ Okay, Oz was starting to hurt her brain a little more than the usual.

_ She knows so much. She knows what Oz is thinking. I never know that. Before long she’ll know him better than I do. _

“No, don’t think that.” Buffy begged Willow, who was looking concerned again.

“I can’t help it, Buffy. I- I’m sorry, I just can’t,” She grabbed her bag and left the room as well, and Buffy frowned, starting to see what Angel had meant by the good stuff being bad, too.

“Uh, if you don’t need me, I’m gonna uh, follow the redhead.” Oz hopped up, giving Buffy an apologetic look before following after his girlfriend.

“I guess I won’t be writing that book, Winning Friends Through Telepathy.” Buffy snarked, as Giles slowly came back toward the table with a few books in hand.

_ Whatever. I wonder when I can go. _

“Whatever.” Cordelia groaned. “Can I go?”

“Excuse me,” Wesley popped his head out of the office, “can you hear me thinking in here? I could go out into the hall.”

“You know what, you stay.” Buffy sighed. They needed to get research done anyway, and they wouldn’t do it while worrying about what she might be hearing. “I’m getting a headache again. I’ll go.”

_ When was the last time Buffy got a headache? Is she alright? _ Giles’ concern was comforting, but it was still more noise in Buffy’s head than she wanted right now, even from him.

She just needed some fresh air, that’s all. It had been too many voices all at once in her head, and then with everyone’s discomfort around her… the Scoobies had accepted her, after everything with being the Slayer, but now once again she was the weirdo no one wanted to be around.

  
  


**... ... ...**

  
  


After her black-out and waking up in the grass outside, Buffy continued to cling to Giles all the way home, her hand wrapped around his elbow as he needed his hand free to work the stick shift. She knew her friends meant well, and she was glad that they were taking the reins on the cafeteria-killer mystery, but it was all suddenly too much. Giles, by himself, she could handle. Giles was warm, and gentle, and comforting… even if sometimes his stray thoughts were not very encouraging.

“Am I really gonna lose my mind?” Buffy worried as she curled up in the passenger seat of the Citroen. She had her eyes tightly closed, hoping it would help her focus on Giles alone and not anyone else they drove by on the road. At this point, her headache was worsening, and the sunlight seemed piercing.

“No, Buffy,” Giles promised her softly and intently, “I won’t let that happen. There was- there was a man, before, somewhat recently actually - he’d been… um, influenced, by the telepathic demons as well.”

“So what happened to him?”

“Um… self-isolation.” Giles admitted. “He couldn’t turn off the power.”

“Oh, God,” Buffy moaned, and he briefly reached over to squeeze her knee supportively.

“We’ll figure this out, Buffy.” His assurance was soothing, and she tried to relax. He kept his hand warmly on her knee, except when he had to move the shifter.

“Well, at least you and Wesley are working together, now,” Buffy teased, ignoring his stray thoughts about her soft skin, and he chuckled lightly, seemingly ignoring those thoughts as well.

“He wants this gone almost more than I do, it seems.” Giles wondered with amusement. “Do I want to ask what he’s been thinking about?”

“Let’s just say it starts with Cor- and ends with -delia,” Buffy quipped. He chuckled again, a bit in dismay, shook his head, and then rubbed his thumb in random patterns until she realized she was actually dozing off.

_ I wish this were a different situation. We could be… relaxing. Taking a drive, anywhere. Some place not here, some place where no one knew us. Spending time together, in museums and art shows, I could be taking her to an ice show… and then coffee, afterwards. No demons… No Council… just the two of us, on the road, because we want to be. _

Buffy smiled softly, falling asleep into his daydream.

**... ... ...**

She blinked partially awake when gravity shifted oddly, and she heard the tones of her mother’s worried voice. Turning her face toward the warm fabric against her ear, she realized that it was Giles’ jacket, and that he was carrying her in his arms. She nuzzled happily against him and mumbled her approval, breathing him in.

He didn’t seem to be struggling with her at all. She knew she was on the smaller end of the scale as far as people went, but she was still kind of impressed by him.

“Oh God, what’s happened?”

“It’s alright, Joyce,” Giles’ soothing voice rumbled in his chest and made Buffy smile again. “She’s just… fainted a spell. Has a rather nasty headache, I imagine. May I take her up…?”

“Of course, here, come on in…”

A weird sense of movement had Buffy assuming they were headed up the stairs now, but she didn't want to open her eyes to check. She curled her hand around Giles’ tie, wanting to hold him in return. This was even better than falling asleep in that tiny chair with him. She felt safe, in his arms, which might be kind of weird to admit, being the Slayer and all, but it was true.

“The other night while on patrol, she had an altercation with a demon. She defeated it, but unfortunately it had managed to, um, infect her. These were telepathic creatures, and now unfortunately Buffy is as well. She can’t control it…”

Buffy stopped listening to Giles’ words and just focused on the sound and feel of his voice. It was getting a little more difficult to shut out the other voices in her head, and that worried her.

“Here you are,” Giles murmured as he settled her carefully on her mattress. Her mom must have pulled the duvet down, because she touched cool sheets before the heavy blanket was tucked on top of her. That was kind of nice, too; being tucked into bed all warm and cozy.

“Giles,” Buffy whimpered when she felt him start to pull away, and tightened her grip around his tie as she squinted her eyes open.

“Ah,” He half-choked, for a moment, before he leaned in close again to relieve the pressure around his neck. “Buffy,”

“Don’t go.”

“You’re home now, Buffy.” He assured her, kneeling beside the bed and covering her hand with his own until she exchanged the tie for his fingers instead. “You’ll be alright, your mum’s here… I need to go back to the library, help Wesley and the others,”

“In a little bit? Please.” She put her pout to good use. “You make my brain hurt less.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you complain about my long-windedness,” Giles teased, and she lightly huffed. “I… uh,” He hesitated then, and glanced up to where Joyce was still standing by the bedroom door, watching them.

“I’ll go get a glass of water and some headache tablets.” Joyce murmured, slipping out of sight, and Giles watched the doorway with trepidation for a moment until Buffy squeezed his hand.

“Giles?”

_ If it helps her, I can’t deny her a thing. _

Giles used his free hand to remove his glasses and set them carefully on her bedside table, and only then did Buffy let go of his hand, assured that he would stay. He untied his shoes and removed them, setting them neatly beside the end of the bed where Buffy realized her shoes had been placed also.

It was kind of a domestic little picture, and Buffy smiled at it. His shoes looked gigantic next to hers, but she loved it.

She blinked sleepily as she watched him remove his jacket next, and hang it over the back of her desk chair, followed by his tie that went - folded carefully - on the desk. Then he moved around to the other side of her bed, unbuttoning his cuffs, not hesitating as he settled on top of the duvet beside her.

“Won’t you get cold?” Buffy turned on her other side, to face him, and gripped the edge of the blanket teasingly. Still partially propped up on his elbow, Giles raised his eyebrow, giving her a look.

“Let’s not push it, hm?” He suggested, and she sighed heavily, but mostly to tease him, and snuggled against her pillow. She reached one hand out from beneath the blanket to touch the front of his shirt, wanting assurance of his solidness and warmth.  _ So beautiful. _ The depth of tenderness in his thoughts brought tears to her eyes.

“I’m scared.” She admitted in a whisper.

“I know.” He murmured, resting his head on the pillow beside hers so he could stretch his arm up above her and card his fingers through her hair. “We’ll fix it, Buffy. Just rest, now.” He pet her hair gently, aware of the headache pounding in her skull, and soothed her into a warm, quiet sleep.

Neither of them noticed Joyce, watching again from the doorway, water and medicine in hand. They didn’t see her furrowed brow slowly relax, and the look of something almost like appreciation soften her expression.

When Buffy did awaken again, it was dark outside, and Giles was sitting on the edge of her side of the bed, the phone in his hand.

“Yes- yes, I understand. Good, good - and you’re sure- alright, yes. I’m on my way.” He ruffled his free hand through his hair as he quietly hung up the phone, and Buffy slid her hand over his thigh as she yawned.

“Hey,”

“Oh! Buffy.” He startled, but immediately relaxed and smiled hopefully. “How do you feel? That was Wesley. He’s found a potion that will help you,”

“I feel…” Buffy grimaced as exactly at that point, what sounded like hundreds of voices creeped into her mind. “Not good.”

“Can you hold on for just a little bit longer?” Giles took her hand between both of his. “Wesley says the potion is almost finished, but there are still a few things he needs to complete it. I have to go,”

“No,” Buffy widened her eyes, worried, and Giles made a soothing noise.

“Remember you’ve sent Angel after that second demon? I need to find him and make sure- well, we’ll be needing its heart.”

“But everyone else is quieter when I have you to focus on,” Buffy’s whine was half-hearted; she knew that what Giles was saying made more sense. She was looking for temporary relief and he was trying to save her entirely.

“Why don’t you try that focusing technique on your mother?” He suggested gently. “She’ll be here. She’s worried about you.”

“I don’t know if I wanna know what my mom’s thinking.” Buffy grimaced. “You having been in my bed and all.”

Giles blushed adorably at that, and Buffy shifted in her covers closer to him so she could wrap her arms around his waist.

“I liked having you in my bed,” She mumbled, fondly rubbing her cheek against the side of his hip. “And if I wasn’t all migraine-y, I’d proposition you.”

Giles laughed at that, sounding half-pained.

_ Sleeping beside you is a dream come true. _

“Now isn’t the time,” He reminded her softly, and she sighed and nodded as she released him and settled back against her pillow. He tilted over to kiss her warmly on her temple, and brushed his thumb against her cheek. “Try to get some more rest,” He murmured, “and stay strong, Buffy. This will all be fixed very soon.”

She believed him, she really did, but Buffy couldn’t go back to sleep after he left. Her mom came up to join her, nestling in the chair in the corner of the room, trying to think soothing mom-thoughts. But her worry was just as loud, unfortunately, as well as her confused thoughts about Buffy’s relationship with Giles.

_ He cares about her, deeply, it’s so obvious… but he’s closer to  _ _my_ _ age… still, he wants the best of the world for her. What more could you really ask for in a man for your daughter? God, though -  _ _man_ _. At least Angel  _ _looks_ _ like he’s closer to Buffy’s age, even if he is really… oh, who am I kidding? He’s a vampire for God’s sake. At least Mr. Giles is alive and breathing. _

“Mom,” Buffy grumbled in complaint, tugging over the pillow that Giles had been using and pressing it over her face. Oh - it still smelled like him. Nice.

“Sorry, dear.”  _ Can she really hear  _ _everything_ _ I’m thinking? Good thing I haven’t bought Christmas presents yet. _

Buffy blurted out a laugh at that, startling Joyce.

“Honey?” She wondered uncertainly.

“Thanks, Mom.” Buffy told her fondly, peeking her head from between the pillows briefly, to give her mom a little smile. “You’re the best Mom, you know?”

“I love you, sweetheart,” Joyce returned a warm smile, until Buffy hid between the pillows again.

It wasn’t long after that the voices became unbearable. Buffy couldn’t focus on her mom anymore, she couldn’t focus on any of them. It was a crowded airport in her mind, everyone speaking at the top of their lungs, all about completely different things, some in different languages. She was sure that at some point she’d thrown up - her mom had likely had a bucket and towel at the ready, as she often used to whenever Buffy would be sick as a child.

Now, she could do nothing but whimper. She couldn’t even think, herself. She had no idea if she was even still in her bed at home. Time was inconsequential. When the sun came up, that only meant even more voices, even louder voices, the world waking up around her.

“Hey, here, Buffy, drink,” The words and the voice meant nothing to her, just another sound in the midst of everyone else, but she felt herself being pulled up, like moving through quicksand. She slouched against warm, broad shoulders, as someone’s hand held her head back and pressed something cold against her lips.

Buffy whimpered and made to shift away, but the hand on her head grew more firm and forced her mouth open with the glass. She swallowed reflexively, shuddering against the cold oozy feeling, but the hand in her hair rubbed encouragingly against her scalp.

“That’s it, drink some more.” Oh, Giles.

“Come on, Buffy,” Angel?

“You need to drink it all, Buffy.” Giles’ tone was urgent, and a little scared, so Buffy relaxed her jaw and allowed more of the liquid to be poured into her mouth. “Just a little more, luv… that’s it.” The cool glass was eventually pulled away and then arms were guiding her back to her pillows, tucking her in. “Good job, Buffy. Very good.” She smiled, always happy to get praise from her Watcher, and blindly shuffled her fingers against the mattress, searching to return his tender touch.

“Is she alright?” Angel worried.

“Yes, she will be. It will take a few minutes or so to work through her, but we’ve managed in time, I think.” Giles answered.

“Thank God.” Joyce let out a breath in relief.

“Nng,” Buffy whimpered and half-curled up again, the potion making her muscles cramp painfully as it worked the demon stuff out of her. Her brain felt like it was still smoking after a heavy fire.

Both Giles and Angel shifted at the same time, and then they both froze. After an awkward beat, Angel gave Giles a hesitant nod and stepped away from the bed. Giles slid his hand into Buffy’s and brought her limp palm up to his lips, kissing her knuckles soothingly.

“Do you drink… coffee?” Joyce asked Angel hesitantly, and he nodded quietly to her.

“Occasionally.”

“Why don't we, um, give Buffy some time to recover… not crowd her too much.” Joyce suggested, and Angel nodded again, glancing toward the two on the bed once more before slinking out of the room.

“Angel,” Giles called out before the vampire could walk too far away, and Angel stepped back into view. “Thank you.” Giles told him sincerely, looking him in the eye directly for the first time since what had happened with Angelus.

“You’re welcome, Giles.” Angel replied, just as sincere. He hesitated, and looked at Joyce again. “You have decaf, right? Caffeine sort of makes me jittery.” He admitted, and when Joyce nodded, he left for the kitchen.

“So, he knows?” Joyce figured softly from the doorway, not immediately following the vampire yet, and Giles glanced up toward her.

“Knows what?”

Joyce only sort of smiled at Giles, the gesture not quite reaching her eyes, before she looked back down to his hand clasped with Buffy’s, and then turned away and left them alone.

Giles was very still for a while.

“Mom doesn’t know everything,” Buffy mumbled sleepily, “but she’s starting to.”

“Dear one,” Giles brushed her hair away from her face with his free hand. “How do you feel? Hearing anything you shouldn’t be?”

She squinted her eyes open, meeting his adoring green and amber ones, and she slowly smiled in wonder.

“Not a peep.” She sighed happily, and Giles smiled with full relief and kissed her hand again. She gave his fingers a loving squeeze, and then pushed herself up against her pillows to sit upward a little more. “So, you and Angel teamed up huh?”

“We had a common goal.” Giles murmured, gently sliding his hand free so he could remove his glasses and clean the lenses. “Buffy… were you worried that he would hurt me, because he knows what’s going on between us?”

“Is now really the time?” Buffy winced, glad for the energy she could feel returning to her. “Did you find the killer? From the cafeteria?”

“Mm, no,” Giles admitted, slowly putting his glasses back on. “But the others are still on it,”

“We need to go help,” Buffy told him urgently, pushing her covers off and slipping around him to put her feet on the floor.

“Buffy, you should rest- ” Giles started to disagree, but with one look from Buffy, he quietly sighed and got to his feet. “I’ll wait downstairs, while you change,” He told her, as she was already moving toward her closet.

“You could stay,” Buffy teased as he put his hand on the doorknob to close it behind him, and he gave her a wry look.

“You’re mother would just love that, I’m sure.” He drawled, and she winced.

“True. Alright, Watcher-mine. I’ll be down in five.”

  
  


**... ... ...**

  
  


“It’s nice to be able to help someone in a non-Slaying capacity,” Buffy mused happily, as they strolled across the grass for a mild amount of more privacy for their conversation. “Except, he’s starting to get that look? You know, like he’s gonna uh, ask me to prom.”

“Well… it’d probably be good for his self-esteem if you- if you, um,”

“Oh come on, what am I, Saint Buffy?” She grimaced, and for a moment wished that she could still read his mind. Giles had told her months ago to live her life, but he was still smooching her on occasion, plus he clearly thought about her  _ a lot _ \- and there was no way she was gonna date somebody else where he’d be seeing them everyday - and anyway, “He’s like three feet tall!” Giles gave her an amused look at that.

“Glad to see you’ve recovered from your psychic encounter more or less intact,” He snarked, but then asked hopefully, “Feel up to some training?”

“Sure! We can work out after school.” Buffy replied brightly. “Or, you know, take a gander at that big, smooth research table and find out how sturdy it  _ really _ is.” She kept her coy tone casual as she continued heading for the side entrance of the school, and Giles was quiet until she heard a pained grunt from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder to find him staring up at a tree as if it’d come out of nowhere, and she laughed softly.

“See you after classes!” She called out innocently, and he gave her the same stare he’d given the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for my crummy Latin. Haha!
> 
> The basic idea for the second two phrases Giles had thought of were about loving Buffy and pleasure. The first phrase I honestly don't remember what I'd been going for. That's what I get for not taking good notes while working! Thank God I don't get points for accuracy haha


	11. Chapter 10 (Choices, The Prom)

“Crucially important to his Ascension, that’s what he said.” Faith replied, chewing on her gum as she casually twisted her gnarly-looking knife around between her fingers. Wesley was watching her warily (God, Buffy wished for better phrasing), and Buffy didn’t blame him. That knife was… something else.

“Hey!” She piped up excitedly, wanting a happier mood for the morning. “Did you hear about Willow?” She looked to her best friend. “Did’ja tell them?”

“No,” Willow shifted in her seat, unable to hide her smile of excitement.

“Tell them!” Buffy encouraged, almost bouncing. Wesley was watching her with concern, now.

“I got into Oxford.” Willow announced shyly, her joy still obvious, and both of the Englishmen in the room focused on her and perked up. Giles, especially, looked proud.

“That’s deep academia, there.” Oz added, proud in his own way.

“That’s where they make Gileses!” Buffy beamed, and Giles glanced toward her with an amused smile.

“I know,” Willow enthused excitedly, “I could learn, and… and have scones!”

“Congratulations, Willow,” Wesley told her warmly.

“I didn’t know you’d applied!” Giles wondered in surprise, and Willow grinned, still kind of shy.

“I didn’t want you to know in case I didn’t get in,” She explained.

“As if any college _wouldn’t_ accept you,” Buffy lightly teased her, and the redhead’s shoulders straightened with proud self-confidence. “I wanna go to college.” Buffy announced.

“I don’t understand.” Wesley suddenly looked alarmed.

“I… don’t think I could say that any slower.” She gave him a confused look. “I wanna leave.”

“What, now?” Wesley exclaimed.

“No, not now.” Buffy frowned a little at him. “After I graduate. For many people high school is followed by college.” She gestured toward Willow as an example, who nodded sagely in agreement.

“But… you’re a Slayer.” Wesley seemed legitimately flummoxed, and the other Scoobies all briefly shared a look and slunk a little in their seats, sensing a coming argument. Buffy noticed but ignored them.

“Yeah, I’m also a person.” Buffy huffed. “You can’t just define me by my Slayerness - that’s… something-ism.”

“Buffy, I know we talked about you going away,” Giles began, sounding more interested in her thoughts than Wesley was, but probably trying to keep a serious argument from forming between them.

“I got into Northwestern!” She blurted, and he lowered his mug from his mouth, smiling with surprise.

“That’s wonderful news - good for you,” Giles stepped toward her, pride all over his face, and Buffy smiled warmly at him. She wanted to kiss him; he looked so kissable right in this moment. He looked like maybe he wanted to kiss her, too.

“Buffy, that’s awesome!” Willow cheered.

“Ha! Rub _that_ in Cordelia’s face.” Xander added.

“Alright everyone.” Wesley interrupted stiffly. “Monsters? Demons? World in peril?”

The reminder of others in the library drew Giles to a halt in the middle of the room, and Buffy turned toward Wesley.

“I bet you they’ll have all that stuff in Illinois.” She quipped, making a mental note to kiss Giles later.

“You cannot leave Sunnydale.” Wesley told her firmly, as if it were an order. “By the power invested in me by the Council, I forbid it.” Like that was the end-all, be-all. And what the _heck_ was with that weirdo hand symbol?

Faith snorted, watching this all with mild amusement, and Buffy rolled her eyes, turning back to Giles and pacing past him, needing to put some space between herself and Wesley before she throttled him.

“Oh yes, that should settle it.” Giles remarked dryly toward Wesley, taking another drink of his tea, and Wesley took a frustrated step closer to them.

“With the mayor’s Ascension coming up, and Faith’s…” Wesley trailed off, and glanced back toward the other Slayer, who stopped playing with her new knife and raised her eyebrow at him, silently challenging.

“I know it’s complicated.” Buffy reasoned, interrupting before _that_ bomb would explode. “I’m aware that my graduation may be, among other things, posthumous… but what if we stop the Ascension?” She challenged Wesley.

“I very much hope you will,” Giles muttered a bit sarcastically. She knew it was because of the death-mention again, so she let it go.

“If Faith and I handle that, then all you guys have to do is keep the run-of-the-mill unholy forces at bay through midterms, and I’ll be back in time for homecoming.” She glanced back at Giles, and added, “And every school break after that.”

Suddenly, the idea hit her that Giles would likely stay guarding the Hellmouth while she was gone. They’d be whole states apart. He wanted her to experience college, but did he want her to be _that_ far away from him? Did she?

As if he was thinking the same thing, Giles slowly took another drink and stepped away from her, heading toward the handrail of the steps to lean against it. His movements were casual, but Buffy could read the perturbed expression on his face.

“Can we at least think about it?” Buffy tried, and Willow gave Wesley her best hopeful, encouraging face.

“P- perhaps if circumstances were different,” Wesley started hesitantly, and Buffy put her hands on her hips.

“I’ll make them different.”

“What?”

“I’m tired of waiting for Mayor McSleaze to make his move while we sit on our hands, counting down to Ascension Day. Let’s take the fight to him.” Buffy insisted.

“Hear, hear!” Xander piped up.

“No.” Wesley immediately denied, and Buffy folded her arms across her chest. “No! Much too reckless!”

“She’s right.” Giles said calmly, shifting to stand beside Buffy again, making her preen a little. “Time is running out. We need to take the offensive.” He looked toward her. “What’s your plan?” Giles agreed with her! Giles was backing her up! Giles wanted to hear her ideas!

Buffy hesitated.

“I gotta have a plan? Really?” She asked sheepishly. “I can’t just be proactive with pep?” She gave him a smile, and he returned one for a brief moment before saying,

“You want to take the fight to them, I suggest the first step would be to find out exactly what they’re up to.”

“Oh.” Buffy sobered. “I actually knew that. I thought you meant a more specific plan, you know, with maps and stuff.” He nodded in understanding, clearly only to go along with her, a tiny smile on his face again. “Great!” Buffy squared her shoulders, telling Wes, “We’ll find out what they’re up to.” And then she followed after Giles into his office, not giving Wesley the chance to butt in again.

Giles set his mug down before picking up a text from his desk and handing it to Buffy without looking, knowing she was behind him. He grabbed another one for himself as he sat down, subconsciously spinning his chair to face the reading chair as he opened the binding to read.

“Faith doesn’t know what it is, but apparently the mayor basically can’t ascend without it. From Central America? If that helps.” Buffy informed him as she sat down in the reading chair and kicked off her flats, tucking her feet under her.

“Mm, it may,” Giles murmured appreciatively, touching his finger against his lip as he quickly scanned the book in his lap.

Buffy watched him indulgently for a minute, instead of reading. He’d gotten a haircut at some point over the weekend, and while she usually liked when it was all ruffly, the clean look made him look younger in a way. Plus, the blue shirt was nice. She always liked him in blue.

“Buffy,” Giles murmured softly, and she flinched, looking back toward his face. He seemed to still be focused on the book, but he’d caught her staring anyway.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, shifting a little in her seat and flipping open her book.

“Congratulations, again, about Northwestern,” His voice did that soft rumbly thing that always made her feel all tingly. “I’m so proud of you, Buffy.” When she glanced up at him, he was looking at her with that pride - and his love - written all over his face. Buffy smiled crookedly.

“Mr. Giles,” She teased, also warning him lightly, “you look like you want to kiss me.”

“Miss Summers,” Oh, _that_ particular rumble made her toes curl, “I’m afraid that I very much do.”

They stared at one another, and she could feel her heart start to beat a little faster. Her eyes eventually dropped to his lips, which looked particularly kissable today, and she clenched her jaw. She couldn’t kiss him, not here, and not with the Scoobies right around the corner in the library. She remembered the way he’d kissed her two weeks ago, up against the bookshelves hot and hungry, and she touched her fingers against her mouth distractedly as she got a little caught up in the memory. If she thought about it hard enough, she could almost still feel him -

“Buff!” Faith slid into the doorway. “Did you tell him about the Central America thing?” At her sudden appearance, Buffy ducked her head toward her book and Giles half-turned his chair toward his desk, reaching for his tea mug as if that had been his intention all along. Faith squinted at them.

“Yup! Told him!” Buffy said, giving her an innocent, calm smile. Her cheeks felt a little bit flushed, though, and the way Faith’s eyes glinted with amusement, she had noticed.

“Don’t take too long… researching.” Faith drawled. “Gotta be at the airport by nightfall, whether I know what I’m looking for or not.” She grinned like a shark and sent Buffy a wink before leaving them alone again.

The silence between them was a little stifling. Even in her sundress, Buffy felt like the room was too warm.

“This evening, after your patrol. After you visit the airport and hopefully intercept this shipment of the mayor’s - come over to my home. We’ll have ice-cream, to celebrate Northwestern.” Giles suggested, and Buffy raised her eyes toward him in surprise.

“I… don’t think that’s such a good idea,” She told him carefully, and he looked at her in confusion.

“Ice-cream?”

“Your apartment? Just the two of us? Alone?” Buffy pressed.

“You’ve been over many times, before.” Giles reasoned, and she arched her eyebrow pointedly.

“Giles, I want to jump your bones _right now_ ,” She pointed toward the little window behind him, “and the _entire_ Scooby gang is right on the other side of that wall. And you think we should be _alone_ tonight? In all a celebratory mood?”

He was silent for a long moment as he stared at her, his expression hard to read now.

“You raise a valid point.” He replied. Buffy made an ‘obviously’ face at him, and settled her back against the reading chair. She made a point of focusing on her book again, but when he continued not to budge, she lifted her eyebrow at him again.

“Giles? Research? Evil mayor?”

“Sorry,” He laughed lightly, a bit self-deprecatingly, and tugged his glasses off as he shifted his chair closer to his desk. “Jump my bones?” He repeated quietly to himself, and then giggled.

“Would you rather ‘a mind-numbing shag’?” Buffy huffed in a lofty accent, and Giles swallowed audibly.

“N-no, no, that’s quite alright,” He stuttered, the tips of his ears blushing red. Buffy grinned widely and focused back on her reading.

**... ... ...**

Buffy and Faith decided to stake out the airport together, and do some recon on the mayor’s special shipment. Faith hid on a roof nearby where the courier waited in one of the mayor’s limos - which they’d rolled their eyes at; so obvious - and Buffy hid amongst some shipping crates.

“A fuckin’ _dress_ , B!” Faith complained in a loud enough whisper that Buffy could hear her, and shuddered deeply. “It was all I could do not to throw up, especially when he touched my hair. God, I must’ve showered like ten times and still, eugh!” She shuddered again, and Buffy winced in sympathy.

“We gotta stage a breakout for you, or something.” Buffy figured. “Get you out of there. I mean, what else can you really do anyway? He isn’t telling you anything new and it’s just getting super creepy now.”

“I think after we figure out what this little delivery of his is, I’ll take you up on that offer.” Faith grumbled.

A plane taxied down the runway and pulled off the tarmac near them, and they quieted as the limo door opened and the mayor’s courier stepped out.

A very large vampire with very serious tattoos stepped out of the small plane carrying a rather large box, dark and covered in weird symbols Buffy couldn’t recognize. He strolled up toward the limo where the other vampire was waiting, wearing a horrible shirt that screamed “I’m the undead!” from a mile away.

She could barely hear their conversation, but she didn’t have to. Mr. Collared Shirt had a briefcase no doubt full of money, and Mr. Tattoo And Cowboy Boots had an evil-looking box handcuffed to his own wrist. There was obviously a trade going down.

Collared Shirt opened the car door, but a moment later Cowboy Boots kicked it closed, his body tensing and his tones sounding angry. Buffy glanced up toward Faith, and raised two fingers in the air and gestured toward Cowboy Boots. Faith nodded, and then notched an arrow into her compound bow.

Buffy had to admit, the mayor did give her some nice toys. She wondered if she could persuade Giles to get her a new crossbow…

The fwing of the arrow slicing through the air was pleasing to the warrior side of her, and she watched in satisfaction as Cowboy Boots slowly dropped toward the ground before turning to dust. Collared Shirt was left standing, stupefied, and Buffy approached him as Faith made her way off of the roof.

“You… -‘re working together.” He gaped between the two ladies, and Faith raised her eyebrow.

“What are you, the narrator?” She snarked, then gestured her chin toward the box as Buffy knelt next to it. “What’s in the box?”

“I don’t know.” He huffed, looking at her like he thought he didn’t have to answer to her.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out, huh?” Buffy figured, twisting open the clasp and lifting the lid a little. It was dark, weird dark, like dead-space dark, and she frowned as she opened it a little wider.

Her spidey-senses tingled painfully sharp all of a sudden, and before she even realized something was jumping out at her, she was swatting it away. It made an ungodly screeching noise as Buffy immediately slammed the box closed again, just in case there might be another thing in there she didn’t want to deal with, and then the vampire was screaming.

“Jesus, what is that thing?!” Faith exclaimed, taking a step back as Buffy shot to her feet. They both stared in horror as the thing latched onto Collared Shirt’s face, it’s legs clamping around his head and making him unable to wrench it off.

Buffy didn’t think vampires could actually be killed without a stake to the heart, burning to ash, or a beheading… but whatever this thing did, it definitely killed him. When he dropped to the ground and stopped screaming and struggling, the thing shifted off of him and started to scramble away.

“Oh hell no, you facehugger freak!” Faith shouted, leaping after it and stabbing it with her fancy knife. It screeched again, a death sound, and twitched once before falling limp. Faith immediately shook it free from her knife with a shudder. “Eugh. What?”

“I don’t know.” Buffy shared a wary look with her. “But maybe let’s not open the box again, huh?” Faith nodded in agreement, and then they both looked toward the dead vampire. Buffy knelt next to him, peering at the wound on his face.

It was weird; almost like a burn, but the vamp hadn’t turned to ash. It was definitely dead, though - Buffy wasn’t getting any demony vibes from it anymore.

“I think it… I think it sucked the demon right out of him.” Buffy realized, slowly straightening again.

“So…” Faith frowned. “Why would the mayor want a box of creepy crawlies that eat demons?”

“I don’t think they eat just demons,” Buffy hesitantly toed the box on the ground, but the lid was shut tight and not moving. “For a vampire, the demon is its… life force. I think that’s what the thing was eating.”

“Oh.” Faith commented. “So all us humans are like, a smorgasbord.”

“We should- ” Buffy paused. She so did not want this box anywhere near the library. And the mayor was expecting it… if he found out that the box had made it to Sunnydale but was in the hands of the Scoobies, he’d likely take it out on Faith. “You should take this to City Hall.”

“What?” Faith gaped at her. “Are you kidding? You _want_ the mayor to have a bunch of new creepazoid life-force-sucking pets?”

“No, I don’t, but he said it was crucial to his Ascension, right?” Buffy pressed. “That means he’ll need it day-of. I don’t think he’s gonna open it before absolutely necessary, because I can’t imagine he’ll want to waste an ounce of his firepower.” She adopted a grim expression as she picked up the box and waited for Faith to sling her bow over her shoulder to free up her hands to take it. “Take this to him. If he asks about Collared Shirt, tell him the two vamps got into a fight and killed each other. Let’s make sure you’re still totally on his good side before we break you out.”

“What are you gonna do?” Faith wondered, and Buffy glanced down toward the dead creature on the ground.

“I’m gonna tell Giles about this stuff and have him do what he does best.”

“And what is it that Giles does best?” Faith leered, but Buffy only blinked at her.

“Research.”

Faith sighed a long groan of disappointment, shifting her grasp more comfortably on the box, and shook her head.

“One of these days, B, one of these days…”

**... ... ...**

  
  


“I’ve found it,” Buffy tapped her fingers against the book opened in front of her, and Xander leaned over her shoulder curiously. “The Box of Gavrok. This says it houses some great demon energy or something, which his honor needs to chow down on come A-Day.”

Giles strolled into the library then, along with Willow, his jacket slung over his shoulder in one hand and a parcel of papers in the other. They both seemed very sure of themselves, and Buffy figured that meant their mission had been a success, so she stood and moved her research out of the way. As they'd determined it was time to get Faith away from the mayor, Buffy took over the researching so Giles could help Willow, and she actually hadn't minded so much. She'd gotten a lot better at it over the last few months.

“What’s that?” Wesley wondered, as Giles tossed his jacket to a nearby chair and laid out the sheets of paper on the table, and Buffy tried not to check him out too obviously.

“Maps,” Giles replied, with a cheeky glance toward Buffy as he added, “and stuff.” She quirked a brief grin at him and moved to stand where she could read the map properly, fighting off the urge to giggle like a- well, school girl. She quietly cleared her throat and focused her brain on the mission.

“Plans for City Hall,” Willow clarified, “they were in the water and power mainframe.” Buffy nodded to her, telling her ‘good job’ with a look, and Willow smiled back before they both focused on the map.

“Faith told me the box is being kept under guard in a conference room on the top floor,” Buffy informed them all, she and Giles finding and pointing toward the location almost at the same time.

God, Buffy loved it when the two of them were vibing; it was like a high. And when they were vibing, it was like the rest of the Scoobies just rolled right along, hoppin’ a ride on the vibe train with no hesitation. The feeling was adrenaline-inducing, made her blood hum in her veins.

Anybody who ever told her again that Slayers should work alone would get a swift kick to the gonads.

“I figure we can enter through the skylight,” Buffy continued, ignoring Wesley’s attempt at taking control of the conversation. “Make like we’re there for the box, nab Faith instead. I’ll take Angel with me.”

“Agreed.” Giles hummed immediately, approving, which Buffy appreciated. Regardless of personal feelings, it would be best to have as much muscle on their side as possible. The mayor wouldn’t have just any run-of-the-mill vampires guarding his place.

“There’s a fire ladder on the east side of the building, here,” Xander noted the quick escape point.

“Yes, fine, but we still need to consider whether the mayor- ” Wesley tried again.

“It won’t be enough to simply break into the room with the box,” Giles pointed out to them, also ignoring Wesley, and Willow nodded.

“Right, we have to really make it look like we want it. If we get in there and then don’t even touch the thing, it’s going to look obvious.” Willow said.

“Hang on, Buffy’s said this box is filled with demon energy - we can’t just allow the mayor to continue- ”

“Those creatures seem to be nothing more than small demons themselves.” Giles interrupted Wesley again. “I believe the box is simply a gateway to the dimension in which they reside. They’re fairly easy to kill, so I don’t imagine the mayor will be using them for any sort of army force. That said, I wouldn’t suggest opening it again, unless you plan on exterminating for the entire night.”

“Great.” Buffy deadpanned. “He’s bringing his own popcorn to the shindig. Willow,” She began to set out orders, but Wesley did the interrupting this time,

“Stop!” Wesley shouted in frustration, stepping around them to stand in the middle of the room, between the gang and the door as if they’d been about to immediately leave. “I demand everyone stop this instant. I’m in charge here, and I say this is all moving much too fast.” He informed them levelly. Buffy rolled her eyes in Giles’ direction, and he visibly sighed and propped his hand on his hip. “We need time to fully analyze the situation and devise a proper and strategic stratagem.”

Xander shared a look with Willow that Buffy noticed.

“Wes. Hop on the train or get off the tracks.” She told him plainly. This is what the Scoobies did best, and they’d been doing it together for three years now.

“The mayor will most assuredly have supernatural safeguards protecting the box.” Wesley replied tersely. “ _Thus_ , I imagine even _pretending_ to take it would be disastrous.” He glanced around, and they all silently gave him their own versions of annoyed looks. “Oh, we all forgot about that, did we?”

“Looks like a job for Wiccan girl.” Buffy piped up as if she and Giles hadn’t already thought of that. “What do you say, Will? Big-time danger.”

“Hey, I eat danger for breakfast.” She smirked, already knowing exactly which spell she was going to use. She’d practiced it with Giles, earlier.

“But oddly enough, she panics in the face of breakfast foods.” Xander quipped.

“Let’s get to work.” Buffy announced wryly, and Giles began to roll up the map again.

“Damn it, you listen to me!” They all startled only because Wesley had never actually sounded that pissed off, before. “This box is the key to the mayor’s Ascension! Thousands of lives depend upon our getting rid of it. Now, I want to help Faith as much as the rest of you, but our primary target _must_ be _the box_.”

“We know he needs to snack after he’s become demony; we take care of the box then. He’ll have it somewhere nearby. While he’s distracted Ascending, we destroy the box.” Buffy told him.

“Not just physically,” Willow added, a little bit excited, “Ritually. With some down-and-dirty black magic.”

“We don’t know what such a ritual would require!” Wesley pointed out, and Giles picked up the text nearest him, which is the same one he and Willow had studied together earlier.

“I think the ‘Breath of the Entropics’ is uh, standard for this sort of thing.” He said calmly, holding the book open to the previously marked page. “Fairly simple recipe.” Wesley pursed his lips in annoyance as Giles handed the book off to Xander.

“Yep, I’m ingredient-gettin’ guy.” Xander nodded as he accepted the book.

“We’ll be ready for it.” Buffy informed Wesley firmly. “Until then, we save Faith.”

Wesley still looked like he didn’t agree, but everyone else had deemed the conversation finished and began packing up for the night.

Buffy would get word to Faith about the raid on City Hall tomorrow night, so she’d have a bit of warning and time to prepare. Xander would go ahead and spend tomorrow gathering the ingredients they would need to later destroy the box, and everyone else would stock up on their beauty rest.

Not that Giles needed his… as the group strolled out of the library together, Buffy hung back to walk behind them all with him, admiring his rolled up sleeves and buttoned up waistcoat. Wesley was moping along a few steps further back, so she couldn’t grab Giles’ butt like she wanted to, but she took her time looking.

When her eyes eventually reached Giles’ face, he was smirking sideways at her, and she grinned back.

Oh yeah, he was vibin’.

**... ... ...**

Angel somehow screwed up the winch, so they had to pretend to knock Faith unconscious and carry her out of the front of the building, while also acting as if the vampire goons had made it impossible for them to make off with the box.

Like Faith was their consolation prize.

Either way, as Angel carried her over his shoulder like a bag of flour, Buffy tried to keep the pursuing vampires back far enough that they couldn’t follow them to the van and put the Watchers in danger.

“Trees,” Buffy hissed as they barreled through the front doors just a few paces ahead. Buffy glanced in the direction of the van and pointed out of the parking lot, knowing that Giles would be watching her. Then, she dove behind the bushes along with Angel and Faith, hiding as the vampires stumbled out of the building.

By this point, Wesley had already put the van into gear and was careening by the entrance, as Giles-

“Oh my God, was that Giles?” Faith snickered, as the man in question hung half out of the passenger window and let out a cackle that an evil cartoon villain would be proud of.

“Hush,” Angel warned, his eyes on the other vampires. Sure enough, they took the bait and started running as fast as they could after the van.

“Let’s go - and carry her until we get around the block,” Buffy warned as she got to her feet. “We’ve got to make it look good for the security cameras.”

“Damn, couldn’t you at least carry me so my face isn’t by your ass?” Faith grumbled as she limply allowed Angel to scoop her up again. He rolled his eyes, but shifted her into a bridal-style hold before following Buffy away from the building.

They didn’t run into any more problems before reaching the library, and Faith collapsed into one of the chairs with a huff.

“Damn, B, you couldn’t have pulled your punches even a little?” She grumbled, rubbing her jaw, and Buffy shrugged innocently as she hopped up to sit on the circulation counter.

“I had to make it look good.” She touched the cut on her lip, and raised her eyebrow. Faith mirrored Buffy’s innocent expression, then grinned a little and closed her eyes as she let her head relax back.

“I’m… gonna go.” Angel announced softly, and Buffy winced.

“Sorry,” She pulled her lip into her mouth, as if hiding the blood from his view would keep him from remembering it was there to begin with.

“It’s not that,” He assured her gently. “It’s…”

Giles and Wesley strolled into the library then, carrying a bag of weapons and a thermos between them, and Buffy didn’t fully relax until she gave Giles a good once-over and assured herself that he was injury-free.

His eyes immediately landed on her, as well, and he approached her directly, setting his thermos down on the counter on the way.

“Alright, Buffy?” He asked with a level amount of concern, his gaze already tracking the cut on her lip and the bruise on her cheek.

“All good.” She promised him, before understanding what Angel had meant and turning back around to tell him that he didn’t have to leave.

His back was already disappearing through the double doors on the upper level of the library, and she sighed. Sure, she didn’t like the idea of him being _alone_ with Giles, but that didn’t mean they had to avoid one another all awkwardly _all_ the time.

“Faith,” Wesley greeted hesitantly as he returned the weapons to the cage. “It is… good to have you back.” He was obviously still annoyed about having left the Box of Gavrok behind.

Faith said something in response to him, but Buffy stopped listening, because Giles had taken his handkerchief out of his pocket and was currently dabbing it gently against her bloodied lip with his finger.

He wasn’t concerned, as it was very mild in the list of the injuries that Buffy has had over the years, and his eyes shone with pride. Buffy squinted a quick smile at him, using her eyes more than her mouth, and carefully fit her hand between them to pop open the button on his jacket.

His gaze flashed with warning, then, but Buffy glanced over his shoulder and ascertained that the other two weren’t paying them any attention. She began to slowly unbutton his waistcoat, next, careful not to move too much to draw attention toward them, and his finger paused against her lip.

His eyes dropped to her mouth and lingered there, silently conveying his desire to kiss her, and when she’d finished opening up his waistcoat she tucked her hand beneath his tie to press her palm flat against his belly.

_‘I love you’_ She mouthed, just barely moving her lips, letting her hand soak in his warmth. His expression softened, and he lowered his hand to fold the handkerchief up so her blood wouldn’t get on the rest of his clothing as he tucked it back into his pocket. He leaned forward, just a little bit, against the weight of her hand, and gave her a small nod, silently telling her that he loved her too.

Then he stepped back and fiddled with the front of his waistcoat as if he were undoing it himself, before turning and tugging his tie from his collar as well.

The rest of the Scoobies arrived, having had to walk all the way back and not having the speed of a slayer or a vampire. Giles put on the kettle to make more hot water, and there was tea and hot chocolate passed around as they all lounged around the research table.

It was a comfortable, exhausted silence, until Wesley fingered one of the books still sitting discarded on the tabletop.

“A simple food source or not,” He announced carefully, as if he didn’t want another argument to start, “I’m still not certain I like the mayor having the box in his possession. It’s a _dangerous_ food source.”

“He said something about there being like fifty billion of those things in that box,” Faith told them with a shudder, somewhat agreeing with Wesley. “And he’s kind of invulnerable right now, so if he decides to open it up early there ain't much we can do about it. Not like he’s gotta worry about taking himself out in the process.”

“Well…” Buffy let out a tired breath. “We’ll keep our ear to the ground. They may be creepy but like Giles said, those things are easy to kill.”

“We cannot let Sunnydale be overrun with them,” Wesley advised with a raised eyebrow, and Buffy gave him a determined look.

“We won’t.” She assured him. Then, she looked at Xander. “You got the goods?”

“Oh,” He smirked, and reached into the duffel bag of weapons he’d dropped beside his chair before the hot chocolate had come out. “I’ve got the goods.”

With Oz’s help, he produced three boxes of pastries, setting them all on the table with a flourish.

Giles’ eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

  
  


**— — —**

  
  


“Buffy?”

“Mmf?” She curled her fists more snugly in the blanket and tugged it closer to her chin. “Five more minutes.” She mumbled.

“Wake up, dear… you should get home before it gets too much later.”

“Mom doesn’t worry anymore.” She snuggled deeper into her pillow, not opening her eyes. That statement wasn’t entirely true, but she was too sleepy to really care. She felt fingers card through her hair at the side of her head, pads rubbing slow little circles against her scalp. “Mmm,” She smiled sleepily. “Keep doin’ that and I’ll never leave.”

He chuckled, and Buffy slowly squinted her eyes open. Giles was kneeling right in front of her, his face closer to hers than she’d expected, but it didn’t startle her. She realized then that she’d fallen asleep on his couch, and her smile became a little sheepish.

“Sorry,” She rubbed her cheek against the pillow and opened her eyes a little more. “Guess I got a little carried away with the post-slayage nap.” He was still massaging his fingers soothingly against her head, and she sighed deeply as she stretched, careful not to move out from under him. “What?” She wondered when he only continued to stare at her without speaking.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.” He admitted quietly, and then his hand stilled, though he kept it in her hair. “And that’s exactly why y-you probably should.”

“Hmm,” She hummed musingly, and slid an arm free from the blanket to reach forward and run her fingers down his chest, smoothing the rumpled fabric of his shirt. “I like you in blue.” She told him out loud, shifting her palm back up and sliding it across his collarbone. “It’s a good color on you.”

His hand moved further toward the back of her head as his eyes softened with pleasure, and Buffy tilted her chin up slightly, inviting. She was happily surprised that he didn’t hesitate to kiss her, warm and soft, and she kept her hand pressed against his chest so that she could feel his heart beating.

“Wait a minute,” Buffy tilted her head back after a few moments of that pleasurable activity, and looked over his shoulder toward the window. “What time is it?” She worried, sitting up suddenly, and Giles rocked back on his heels out of the way, moving his hand from her to the cushion to steady his balance.

“Just past five o’cock,” Giles told her, a bit sheepish himself. “Seems that we both, um, got carried away with a nap.”

She glanced toward the reading chair in the corner of the room, dubious.

“You slept there all night?” She asked in surprise, pushing the blanket to the side of the couch and brushing her fingers through her hair in a haphazard attempt to tame it.

“Not for the first time,” Giles admitted, still crouched there in front of her. Buffy paused her frantic primping, and lowered her hands to her lap.

“We definitely can’t go to school in yesterday’s clothes.” Buffy grimaced, but then brightened. “Good thing I’ve got a drawer here!”

Then that hit her. She _did_ have a drawer at his house. And sure, it made sense with their training - she’s had a change of workout clothes at his place practically for as long as he’d been her Watcher - but now she had regular clothes in there too. That made it kind of… coupley.

“You can go up and get- ” Giles shifted as if to push himself up as he spoke his offer, but Buffy put one hand on his arm to stop him, and then grabbed his shirt with the other, tugging him against her knees. His mouth parted in surprise and she kissed him urgently.

He did soft morning kisses perfectly, but she wanted his passionate ones too, and once she licked her tongue against the roof of his mouth, he delivered.

He slowly wrapped his fingers around her knees, spreading her legs apart so he could shift closer to her more comfortably, his body pressing against her. Then he reached up to remove his glasses and tossed them on the coffee table behind him without changing focus, working his mouth and his tongue until she was quivering.

Well, she’d asked for it.

By the time they broke apart, his hair was a mess and even _she_ was out of breath. His eyes looked a little more wild than usual, darkened with desire, and she reflexively tightened her knees against his waist. She slid her hand from his hair to cup his scruffy cheek, and stroked her thumb near the corner of his mouth.

When their breathing had mutually calmed a bit, she smiled a bit apologetically.

“Still not the time, yet, is it.” She figured, and he swallowed before nodding carefully.

“Prom is coming up,” He pointed out, his voice a bit scratchy and making her feel tingly. “And then you will graduate, and then…” He trailed off, and then said in a more grave tone, “There is still the matter of the Ascension, of course.”

“Right.” Buffy sighed, but she was clear-headed again. She pulled her hands back to herself and relaxed her legs so it didn’t seem like she was trying to hold him against his will. “Duty first, then fun.”

“Well,” He gingerly pushed himself to his feet with a grunt, immediately tucking a hand into his pocket and turning away from her as he reached down for his glasses on the table. “Things have been quiet for the past few days. The dance may occur without issue,”

“Great, you just jinxed it.” Buffy drawled sarcastically, standing and carefully stretching. “Will I have _any_ normal high school right of passage deal that doesn’t get ruined by demons or the undead?”

“It will be fine, Buffy.” Giles assured her with a somewhat amused smile. “Wesley and I will both be around, in any case, so- ”

“Aww, Wes is your date?” Buffy crooned, teasing him. “That’s adorable! A Watcher-date!” Giles scowled, and she laughed, though she then pointed at him seriously, “If you’ve jinxed the prom, you owe me ice-cream, mister.” She warned him, heading toward the stairs. “I call dibs on the bathroom first!” She announced as she took them two at a time.

“I- I meant that we’ll likely be in the library, researching for the Ascension-!” He called up after her, and then sighed. “I’ll just get the kettle on,”

She slid open one of the bottom drawers of the dresser in his bedroom, and tugged out her jeans and blouse, glancing toward the armoire on the other side of the bed.

She could hear the soft clinking of dishes and running water from downstairs, so she set her clothes on the end of his bed and tiptoed to the armoire, pulling it open with a bit of a flourish and a grin.

Waistcoats, galore.

She admired a few of his nicer ones, for a moment, before reaching further to the far end and nudging jackets out of the way until she found-

“Hah!” She crowed quietly to herself, her fingers gripping her prize as she carefully pulled it free from the hanger. Most of his t-shirts - simple white and grey and the occasional black - were folded up in the dresser drawer, but he had a few hanging in the back of his closet that he didn’t know Buffy knew about. These were older, particularly soft, and well-worn. Old-school rock band t-shirts hidden behind his leather jacket because he didn’t want anyone finding out that he’d been cool, once.

Buffy grinned to herself as she fingered the predominantly white shirt. It was a dark blue ringer style, which she was tempted to get Giles to wear instead… She bet it’d look very nice on his arms.

She shook the daydreams from her head and checked out the faded logo on the front. It was an orange…-ish circle, with ‘WHO’ written in capital letters in the lower part. Out of all of his shirts, she at least knew a little about The Who… when she’d first stumbled upon his ‘secret stash’, during their preparations for the Cruciamentum, Buffy had asked him about his music tastes - his real ones.

He’d been surprised, but excited to teach her about British rock and have her listen to some of his records and explain to her in more depth than she’d expected - even from him - about why it was considered music and her ‘usual noise’ was not.

She still doubted she’d ever choose to listen to them herself, but she liked the band because Giles liked the band - and she definitely liked the shirt, that smelled like him and felt like a permanent hug when she slipped it over her head.

It was a little baggy on her, but she carefully tucked the end of the shirt into her jeans, and threw her jean jacket on over top of it. Checking herself in the mirror, she nodded in satisfaction. Maybe it leaned a little more toward Faith’s ‘punk’ look, but, she was feeling a little rebellious today.

She had a spare toothbrush next to his in the little cupholder - her mind happily reminding her how coupley that was, too - and she brushed her teeth while she straightened her hair out at the same time.

She could smell the bacon that Giles was cooking, and she wanted to finish getting ready quickly so she would have time to eat it.

And maybe steal another kiss from him, too.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” Buffy announced as she hopped up onto the barstool at the counter, where a mug of her favorite tea was awaiting her.

“That was quick,” Giles began in surprise, turning toward her. His words caught in his throat as he stared at her, and she gave him an innocent look.

“What?”

Instead of sliding the breakfast plate across the counter to her, he walked out of the kitchen and around to set it in front of her, and then reached both hands toward her jean jacket, holding it open a little.

“That shirt looks familiar.” He mused warmly, and she grinned as she ate a bite out of a strip of bacon. He just stood there for a minute, admiring her, until he eventually let go of her jacket and smiled. “You look lovely.”

“I’d have taken one of your collared shirts,” She quipped, “but that’d have been too obvious.”

“And a British rock band from the seventies isn’t?” He returned as he headed up to his loft.

Giles took a little bit longer than her to get ready for the day, but she couldn’t blame him. He wore like twice as many layers, plus he had to shave.

As he stood next to her again, drinking his tea while she washed up her dishes, she couldn’t help but smile happily. This was just like L.A., but even better.

“What is it?” He wondered.

“We might all die on graduation day, but I couldn’t care less.” Buffy smiled wider, and he raised his eyebrow. “I know you don’t want me to hitch my horse to your wagon yet, Giles, but it’s too late for that,”

“That’s not how that- ” He attempted to correct her phrasing as he watched her dry her hands with the towel hanging on the oven handle.

“We’re totally a couple.” Buffy informed him, kissing his cheek when his tea mug wasn’t in the way.

Oh, soft!

She gripped his yet-to-be-buttoned waistcoat to better steady herself as she kissed his cheek again, lingering this time, nuzzling her nose along his jaw. His aftershave was still strong, at the moment, and his skin was ridiculously soft.

“You smell good.” She sighed longingly, eventually lowering herself flat-footed to the ground and letting him go. “I need to get home before Mom wakes up. Thank you for breakfast… and for letting me borrow the shirt,” She sent him a wink before grabbing her bag and heading out the door, pretending that she didn’t notice the equally longing expression on his face.

**... ... ...**

She managed to sneak into her bedroom just as she heard her mom opening the master room door down the hall, and she hurriedly kicked off her shoes and leapt toward her mirror, as if she were just finishing getting ready for the day.

“Buffy, honey - oh, look at you!” Joyce opened her door a little to realize Buffy was already up, and finished pushing it open all the way. “Mm, Roger Daltrey had just the _best_ hair,” She mused fondly, and Buffy glanced toward her in confusion.

“Who?”

“Exactly.” Joyce smiled, not picking up on Buffy’s continued confusion, and then teased with glinting eyes, “You’re awfully bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. What are you so excited for? Got a date to the prom?”

“Mom,” Buffy huffed and rolled her eyes, dabbing a bit of lip gloss on as she straightened and faced Joyce. “You know we’re all just going together. It’ll be a big Scooby shindig!”

“I suppose taking one boy as a date is too old fashioned these days, huh?” Joyce continued to tease, but she tightened the sash of her robe and stepped back into the hall. “You want breakfast?”

“No, I ate at- ” She winced, and quickly amended, “a huge snack last night after patrol. You know I sometimes get hungry and can’t help myself… anyway, uh, no I’m good.” She tugged her shoes back on, and grabbed her backpack. “Actually, I’m gonna go ahead to school. We’re gonna meet before classes and talk dresses!”

“Have a good day, dear,” Joyce pressed a brief kiss against Buffy’s hair as she hurried by, and Buffy tried not to notice the confused look that flitted across her mother’s face.

Strolling down the sidewalk, Buffy gathered a bit of her hair and sniffed the ends, wondering if she should have showered, but… oh. She sort of smelled like Giles. Which immediately brought a happy smile to her face, but then she was mildly worried about what her mom thought. Joyce most likely wouldn’t have recognized the scent of Giles’ soap or his cologne, but it was still a manly smell that lingered around her.

She’d have to make sure none of the other Scoobies got too close, until it dissipated. She touched the collar of the shirt she’d borrowed, and smiled to herself. At the very least, _she’d_ be able to smell him all day long.

Oz and Willow were already sitting at a picnic table when Buffy arrived, and Xander sidled up not too long after with a story about having a sort of real date to the prom, and Anya-the-demon Jenkins.

“Well… she may be a demon, but I think that’s a valid life-style choice.” Buffy offered positively to Xander, who smiled briefly, still not sure about the whole deal. “More importantly? I have a kick dress.” She turned a smirk in Willow’s direction, whose face lit up in excitement.

“Oh! The pink one?”

“Yep!” She crossed her legs on the seat, indian style, and rocked her weight side to side. “Giles is gonna- ” She stopped herself and glanced toward Oz sitting across from her, who didn’t seem bothered one way or the other about the mention of their English friend. “Chaperone. Giles, chaperoning prom.” Buffy finished, hoping her cover didn’t sound too awkward. “Did you guys know that? Apparently Wesley will be there too.”

He’d said they’d be in the library, not actually at the dance, but… close enough, right? What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t just tell her friends that her Watcher was gonna lose it at the sight of her in her prom dress - the idea was _not_ to raise any alarm bells until at least after graduation.

“Ooh,” Willow sounded even more excited than before, “Do you think he’ll wear a tuxedo?”

“Wesley?” Xander wondered, frowning in disgust at her swooning.

“No, Giles.” Willow corrected.

“Isn’t that like, a law of prom? Man must wear tuxedo?” Oz mused thoughtfully.

Buffy stared into the empty space over his shoulder, daydreaming.

After a minute, she realized that Oz had asked her something, and she mentally shook herself into focus.

“Sorry, huh?”

“The Who.” He nodded his head appreciatively toward her shirt. “Buffy and classic rock is not a combination I would have expected.”

“Well, I like to be unexpected.” Buffy quipped, and then paused, wondering if that meant what she’d wanted it to. “Spontaneous?”

“Hard to label,” Willow put in helpfully with a nod and a smile.

“Yeah, labels are for the establishment!” Xander whooped, and reached over to high five Buffy, who returned it hesitantly. “Us bohemian types also don’t believe in labels.” He informed her, wriggling the book in his hand as proof.

Buffy rolled her eyes toward Willow, who was also giving Xander a look of fond exasperation. The warning bell rang before they could get into more dress talk, and they all gathered their stuff and got to their feet.

“Let’s meet up in the library after classes, knock out our homework early so we can hang out.” Buffy suggested, to happy agreement from the others.

Buffy smiled to herself as she hung on to the shoulder strap of her bag, rubbing her thumb against the collar of Giles’ shirt. Today was gonna be a good day, she could feel it.

**... ... ...**

“Can’t you ever get your mind out of the Hellmouth?” Buffy couldn’t help but tease Giles.

“I’d be delighted to,” He sassed back, his eyes drifting over her outfit for a moment before he added more seriously, “However, the day of the mayor’s Ascension is fast approaching and, and we don’t know what to expect.” Buffy gave him a little grin at his wayward gaze but then focused back on her homework.

“Well what about the books we’d gotten from that demon guy?” Xander wondered. “Don’t tell me we didn’t end up getting anything out of them before we let Faith take them.”

“On the contrary,” Giles tried to be assuring, but he took his glasses off as he stepped closer to the table and Buffy turned her attention to him again, sensing there was something he didn’t want to admit. “We- we- we know that the Ascension refers to… a human transforming into a demon, becoming the living embodiment of an immortal, and graduation day our Mayor Wilkins is scheduled to do just that,”

“The trouble is,” Wesley spoke up before Giles could continue, “we don’t know which demon he’s going to become.” He came trouncing down from the second level along with Cordelia, both of them with more books in their arms. Giles gave them a briefly annoyed look, and put his glasses back on.

“There are… thousands of species,” He admittedly agreed, turning back toward the book cage.

“So, it’s safe to say, we shouldn’t waste any time on such trifling matters as a school dance.” Wesley chided them, setting his books down and perching on the seat next to the one Cordelia had taken.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Cordelia smiled sweetly at him, “because I bet you would look way double-07 in a tux.”

“…Except of course on the actual night,” Wesley amended lightly, “when I will be aiding Mr. Giles in his chaperoning duties.”

Buffy shared a look with Willow and Oz, who both smirked in amusement. Mentally, she high-fived herself that her earlier cover ended up being closer to the truth after all.

“What? Excuse me?” Giles wondered in surprise. He poked his head out from the cage door, looking incredulous. Buffy raised her eyebrow at him, and he pursed his lips but ducked back toward his books. “Fine, fine, fine.” He muttered.

“We’ll get you a dress.” Buffy assured Willow as she smiled in amusement at Giles’ flustered attitude. He’d probably been hoping to avoid the temptation of Buffy all dolled up, but she’d been planning on stopping by his place or the library either before or after the dance, anyway. This was even better - he was definitely gonna have to wear a tux, now. “You know, we should check April Fools.” Buffy noted after a flash of inspiration.

“What? Don’t go there.” Cordelia spoke up suddenly, and Buffy gave her a weird look. “I shop there.” Buffy shared another look with Willow, and they both decided not to respond to that.

“I, myself, am dipping into my hard-earned road trip fund to procure a shiny new tux - so look for me to _dazzle_.” Xander announced, and as the others giggled, Giles snapped a book closed with annoyance.

“And I shall be wearing pink taffeta, as chenille will not go with my complexion.” He snarked, approaching the table again. “Can we _please_ talk about the Ascension?”

Buffy raised her eyebrow at him in surprise over the fact he even knew those words, but then she remembered a comment he’d made while under the influence of the candy, and decided to stop thinking about it before the fishnets and heels imprinted on her mind again.

“Giles, we get it,” Buffy soothed. “Miles to go before we sleep. But especially if we’re all gonna vaporize or something on graduation day, we deserve a little ‘promy’ fun.” He glanced away from her for a moment. “One night of glory, not too much to ask.”

“You don’t think that perhaps you’re jinxing it?” He returned, quirking his eyebrow just a bit at her, and she set her pencil down as she gave him a tired look.

“You already got that handled.” She reminded him. “A double-jinx becomes an un-jinx; they’ve cancelled each other out. I’m un-jinxing it, now.”

“Ah,” He nodded, his eyes sparkling with humor now, “I see.”

“Did I miss a part of this conversation, somewhere?” Xander piped up in confusion.

“If you’re finished with your homework,” Wesley suggested firmly, reaching across to set a book heavily in front of Xander, “Then you can help us research.”

Xander sighed but pulled the book closer to read, and Buffy ducked her head over her textbook, not wanting Wesley’s focus to turn toward her. She did feel Giles’ eyes on her, his gaze thoughtful, but chose not to call attention to it.

Maybe he was picturing her in a nice dress.

Buffy smiled a little as she shifted in her seat, a jolt of excitement running through her. Maybe her mom was right about ‘going stag’ being a little weird, but Buffy was looking forward to it. She was determined to have good clean, teenaged, non-Slayery fun.

**... ... ...**

As the gang all gathered at the table the following day to be able to watch the tape on the television monitor Giles had procured, Buffy couldn’t resist the opportunity to be near him. She was totally breaking the six-inch rule as she commandeered the arm of the chair that he was sitting in, but he couldn’t say anything about it with the others so close.

He glanced up at her briefly as her thigh touched his side, but only gave her a silent look before focusing back toward Xander, who was fast-forwarding a security tape from the - go figure - April Fools clothing store. Giles rested his arms on the table as he listened to Xander and Cordelia talk over one another as they tried to explain what had happened the afternoon before, and Buffy clasped her hands together in her lap as she leaned slightly to the side, resting her elbow against his back without being too obvious about it.

She wanted to hold him, properly. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair. She wanted Wesley and Cordelia not to be standing behind them so that she could maybe get away with touching the back of his neck, too.

“Why don’t we just,” Giles suggested loudly, to be heard over the other two, “watch the video to see what’s happened?”

They finally quieted and nodded, and Xander sat back into the seat across from Giles with the remote in his hand, hitting play at normal speed once the recording reached the spot he’d wanted to show them.

They all watched silently as some… beast, attacked Xander and then mauled some poor soul in the corner before fleeing as quickly as it’d appeared.

“C- can you… play that again?” Giles asked, as if he couldn't believe what he’d just seen.

“What was that?” Buffy wondered, frowning, forgetting about secretly touching Giles as she leaned forward a little bit, leaning on him more fully. “Didn’t look very werewolfy to me.”

“Couldn’t be,” Oz confirmed, “no full moon last night.”

“Plus, it’s out in broad daylight.” Willow added.

They watched the footage play through again in silence, and Giles furrowed his brow as he pulled his glasses off.

“And you say the creature just… stopped?” He recalled from Xander and Cordelia’s earlier rambling.

“Yeah,” Xander nodded, gesturing toward the screen as he played it through yet again. “Right there.” He got up to point out closer where the demon had stopped attacking him and backed off briefly. “See, it’s like he just realized he forgot to put money in the meter or something.”

“The other part that totally weirded me out, that thing had good taste.” Cordelia added in amazement. “I mean, he chucked Xander and went right for the formal wear.”

“That’s right.” Xander snarked. “He left behind his copy of ‘Monster’s Wear Daily’.”

“I’m serious.” Cordelia insisted, gesturing, and Buffy sighed quietly as she leaned more heavily against Gile’s back, outright using him as an armrest now.

He shifted his left arm beneath the table and placed his hand on her thigh, sliding it down to squeeze her knee. It was a sympathetic gesture, but it gave her some nice tinglies, too.

“Look at the outfit that Xander’s wearing,” Cordelia continued. “Now look at the kid that the monster went after. Very smooth lines. ...‘Til he was shredded.”

Xander rewound the tape again, and Buffy grimaced and straightened.

“I don’t wanna see it again.” Great. Even _more_ duty before play, now. Giles had totally jinxed it.

“Buffy, I- I know it’s horrible, but if you’re going to hunt this creature, you should study it.” Giles encouraged her, giving her knee another squeeze before casually shifting his hand away so that the others wouldn’t notice. He reached for his mug to take a drink of tea, twisting a little in his seat and leaning away so he could look up at her without putting them too comfortably close.

Than they already were, anyway.

“I think I got it.” Buffy told him, her eyes lingering on the collar of his shirt. Her fingers itched to play with it. Willow piped up in her defense,

“She’s right. I mean, you’ve seen one big hairy bringer of death, you’ve seen them all.”

“Not really.” Wesley finally spoke. “If I’m not mistaken, this is a hellhound.”

“Yes.” Giles admitted his suspicions, setting his mug down and resting his arm along the back of his chair - and behind Buffy - in a way that almost seemed casual. “It’s particularly vicious. It’s a sort of um, demon foot soldier, bred during the Mahkash Wars.” His hand was relaxed against the back of her hip, and he rubbed his thumb against her jeans, soothing again. “Trained solely to kill, they… feed off the brains of their foes.”

Buffy grimaced again at that information, but frowned at the vcr.

“Well, I don’t want to sound disappointed that there wasn’t any brain eating going on yesterday, but… why’d it leave before it actually did any eating?” Buffy wondered, and everyone frowned as one toward the screen.

“What’s that?” Oz asked after a moment. “Hey, pause it.”

Standing in the corner of the frame, just outside the smashed store window, was a young guy with some sort of remote in his hands.

“Hello, hellhound raiser.” Xander mused.

“Willow,” Giles began, and she nodded as she was already getting to her feet.

“Yearbooks, got it.”

“Mr. Giles?” Wesley suggested, just a hint of something terse in his voice, “Perhaps we should check the index, gather together everything you have on hellhounds?” He glanced toward Buffy, and then back to Giles.

Slowly, Giles shifted to pull his arm back to himself and reach for his mug again, and Buffy got to her feet to give him room to stand.

Wesley gave her a look as well, as Giles slipped around her to head up to the second level, and Buffy rolled her eyes as she loosely crossed her arms over her chest. Pointedly, Buffy looked at Cordelia and then back at Wesley, and he pursed his lips as a blush colored his cheeks slightly. He shifted his shoulders a bit but then turned to focus on the bookshelf just behind him, where he’d added some of his own collection brought with him from the Council.

Giles already had a few books in one hand while he continued to peruse the shelves, so Buffy took the ones that were written in English and got comfortable on the steps for reading. Oz helped Willow with the most recent yearbooks, and Xander lounged on the other end of the steps next to Buffy as Cordelia joined Welsey.

It wasn’t long before Oz figured out where he recognized the mystery hound raiser from, and while the others were distracted in their profile of Tucker Wells, Xander shifted in close to speak privately with Buffy. She gave him a sideways look at his suddenly serious expression.

“What’s going on?” He asked in a whisper, and she hesitated before glancing toward the paused vcr across the room.

“We’re… in research mode?”

“Scooby seshes don’t usually involve Buffy bein’ all warm and cozy with Giles.” Xander pointed out, and Buffy widened her eyes slightly as she glanced toward the others, but they were all still gathered around the table and didn’t seem to hear. “It’s not the first time I’ve noticed, either. Do you have a crush on him?” Xander’s question was curious, a little amused, and teasing.

Not exactly what Buffy had expected.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s kinda wiggy, but I get it,” Xander shrugged and nodded, and Buffy just blinked at him, still wide-eyed. “He’s tall, broad-shouldered. Nerdy, but we have come to the conclusion that he can have his badass moments. …And he has that accent going for him, for sure,”

“Xander!” Buffy hissed, urging him to stop talking. “I don’t have a crush on Giles,” Not really a lie - it was way more than just a crush. And she didn't want to get distracted by said tallness and broad-shoulderedness. “But I’m starting to think _you_ do.”

“That blush is telling me otherwise,” Xander gestured to her face and smirked coyly. Buffy opened her mouth to further deny his accusation, but Willow excitedly interrupted,

“Ooh, oh! I got into Tucker's email account.”

Buffy hadn’t even realized that Willow had dragged out her laptop. She was getting awfully good at this hacker stuff. Xander hopped up to go look over Willow’s shoulder, and Buffy slowly stood as well.

Once they gathered that Tucker was planning to attack the prom - information to which Buffy gave Giles a serious look and he’d sighed in reluctant agreement - she ordered the gang to split up and find out everything they could before the evening. They didn’t have a whole lot of time before the dance would start, but she was determined to have the prom occur without any problems.

They were going to have a nice, fun, normal evening, even if she had to kill every single person on the face of the earth to do it.

**... ... ...**

  
  


When they all met up again a few hours later, the gang were bummed to not have had any success on their end, but Buffy wasn’t. She’d managed to get the address for Tucker’s place, though she then had to persuade the others to go ahead to the dance without her, and she’d catch up later.

Once they finally scrambled out of the room to go get themselves fancied up, Buffy turned toward Giles and gave him a bit of a wry smile, trying not to think too hard about what had happened at the butcher’s when she’d gotten said address.

“I want you at the gym. Keep an eye on them until I get there.” Buffy told her Watcher, and he set his book down as she headed for the weapon’s locker.

“I don’t have to tell you you’re being… rather rash,” Giles followed her as she perused the locker, and stood on the other side of the cage. “Finding an address hardly adds up to case closed, and you should highly consider backup,”

“Look, it’s done.” She faced him again for a moment and stepped up to the other side of the cage, right in front of him. “You wanna go after them and tell them they can’t go? That all of their planning and dreaming was for nothing? That they can’t spend tonight with their honeys, of all nights?” She set the crossbow down as she gave him a look, and then returned to the cabinet.

Yeah, alright, she couldn’t just ignore what had happened at the butcher’s.

Angel, just-so-happening to be buying himself some blood while she was there questioning the owner of the place about sheep brains. Angel, awkwardly asking her about the prom, if she had a date, if she wanted _him_ to be her date.

Giles was silent for a long moment, and she heard him shift toward the door of the cage. She gritted her teeth and swallowed, firmly pushing down the frustrated parts of her emotions that wanted to cry. She couldn’t believe that he had…

“Angel’s not taking you, is he?” Giles figured gently, and she gripped the knife in her hand as she turned back around.

“Angel doesn’t really want to; it’s way too awkward for him. And I don’t want him to, either.” She gave Giles an incredulous look. “And I can’t _believe_ you _told_ him to ask me! Without even consulting me about it!”

“Buffy…” He’d already removed his glasses earlier, and closed his eyes with a wince.

“Don’t.” She calmed her tone again. “I know we can’t- we can’t really be a ‘we’, right now. I get that.” She fiddled with her knife, mostly focusing toward that. “I was _fine_ with going stag to the prom, Giles. I was happy to go with the other Scoobies and just have a good time with my friends. But the fact that you thought it was okay to- to, what, give me a candy-gram-man for the night?! And _my ex_ , to boot?” She cocked her eyebrow at him, but then focused again on gathering a few stakes to go with her knife, stuffing everything into a bag.

“Buffy, I’m sorry.” Giles murmured sincerely, his tone breaking a little bit. “I- I know that… you know that I wish that… w-well,”

Buffy sighed, and stepped close enough that she could rest her palm on his arm and halt his stuttering.

“I’m pissed off, and hurt,” She told him, “but I still- ” She paused for a second to glance toward the main doors and assure herself that they were still alone, “I still love you, you big dummy. I just… I don’t want a replacement, Giles. Nothing can ever replace you, not as my Watcher,” She pointed her finger toward the research table where Wesley had lingered the most earlier in the day, “Not as anything. The fact that you think I would be okay with that is- ” She took a breath as her frustration started to grow again. “Look, I just want to take out psycho-boy, first. The great thing about being the Slayer - kicking ass is comfort food.” She slung the bag over her shoulder, but when she stepped forward to slip by him through the door, he put his hand on the frame and blocked her.

“I love you, too.” He whispered so quietly that she almost couldn’t hear it. She looked up to find his head tilted down and his eyes closed, and she rested her hand against the side of his face. He leaned into the touch but didn’t open his eyes, and Buffy lingered there for another minute before gently using her other hand to push his arm out of the way, and headed determinedly out of the library.

**... ... ...**

Buffy stepped through the doorway hesitantly, fixing the drape of her dress slightly until it felt comfortable. She made a mental note to add ‘can quick-change into formal wear right after killing some demons’ to her Slayer resume. As she scanned through the crowd of teachers and students for any of the Scoobies, it was like… a dream. The students had actually done a pretty good job of decorating the place. Streamers and balloons dangled from the rafters and adorned the entry, and punny and encouraging signs alike covered the drab walls, exclaiming about the end of the year and what-not.

She slowed to a stop, staring across the unrecognizable gymnasium as the sweeping lights briefly lit Giles into focus. Like most of the men in the room, he was wearing a tuxedo, but unlike the other men in the room, Giles was _hers_. And he was _yummy_.

He brightened when he saw her, a hopeful look on his face, and she sent him a small nod in confirmation that the threat was no more. He smiled with relief, and pride, and nodded back. Her own smile widened as she gazed at him, no longer annoyed with him. While she thought what he’d done with Angel was totally stupid, she supposed… she could sort of see why he did it.

That didn’t make it any less stupid, but, no matter. Like the end of a perfect movie (or maybe the beginning of one), Giles was the first person she recognized in the crowd. Buffy took a step toward him, wondering - a bit ridiculously, okay, she could admit that - if a slow song was about to start, just as they neared close enough to speak… 

“Hey! Buffy!” Oz’s voice jarred the rest of the world back into focus for Buffy, and she saw him dancing with Willow. Buffy knew Giles would be okay for another few minutes, so grinning, she hurried over to greet the couple, checking out Willow’s dress appreciatively.

“Buffy, you look awesome!” Willow complemented her.

“So do you,” Buffy returned earnestly, reaching for a hug. Willow returned it, surprised but enthusiastic. Which made sense; Buffy hadn’t been much for the huggage lately (not with the rest of the Scoobies, anyway). She resolved to fix that.

“Everything cool?” Oz asked, touching her elbow companionably, and Buffy nodded.

“Coolest. Devil dogs are history. How’s the prom?” She was legitimately excited to see her friends having a good time, excited that she was able to defeat the enemy without everything getting ruined first.

“Strangely affecting.” Oz answered her, glancing toward Willow for confirmation. “I got all teared up when they played ‘We Are Family’.”

“Everything’s perfect.” Willow assured her with a smile, and Buffy grinned. She caught another glimpse of Giles by the snack table, and she had to agree.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Buffy touched Willow’s arm briefly. “I see Giles over there,”

“Sure, sure,” Willow agreed readily, and Oz took a half step over to lean closer to Buffy as she stepped around them.

“I’d watch the sweets,” He warned, and Buffy hesitated, briefly confused. Oz’s eyes glinted a little with humor, and she wondered what in the world he could be thinking about. “I hear they might be an aphrodisiac.” He tilted his head just slightly, and Buffy widened her eyes in realization.

“I thought you couldn’t remember anything when you were all- ” She barely remembered to lower her voice, “wolfy!”

“Turns out I’m getting a little better at controlling it.” Oz shrugged calmly as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “As time goes on. And,” He looked like he was pondering something else, now, “my human senses seem to be improving a little bit, too, I think. It’s actually quite interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Willow couldn’t quite hear them over the music. Oz smiled at her, and kissed her cheek warmly.

“The juxtaposition of prom, a societal rite of passage for centuries, and one of our best friends having just killed a couple of actual hounds from hell.” Oz mused. “And she herself, part of a mystical line of beings centuries old…”

“Alright, ‘Giles’,” Buffy groaned teasingly, rolling her eyes and laughing as she walked away from them.

Apparently, Oz remembered _something_ from The Jelly Doughnut Incident… she wasn’t sure whether to pressure him about it later, or just let it be as it was; a briefly mentioned tease during a night of merriment. He hadn’t seemed too suspect of Buffy and Giles otherwise, so perhaps he believed it was just a one-time thing… or like Xander, that it was just a one-sided crush on Buffy’s part.

She pushed her worries to the side as she approached Giles. There would be no more worrying tonight, and that was an order.

“Who is this extremely handsome man in front of me?” She teased, eyeing Giles again now that they were close. “No tweed? You certainly can’t be my Watcher.”

“Well,” He lifted his chin slightly, pleased by her compliment, “technically, not your Watcher.”

“Mm, certainly not in that tux,” Buffy agreed, her eyes trailing down his long legs again, to the tops of his shiny shoes.

“Buffy,” His voice was warm, rumbling with a half-hearted warning.

It wasn’t just that the tuxedo made the man, in this case, but that the man made the tuxedo...

The lights dimmed and someone hopped up on the temporary stage to start talking about end-of-year awards and the prom king and queen, interrupting Buffy before she could think of something suggestive to say.

Then, to her surprise and amazement, she was being given an award, and everyone was clapping, and it was far better than the idea of being prom queen. They didn’t know it, exactly, but they were acknowledging her for being the Slayer. Thanking her. Showing her an appreciation that the old stogies in England who _knew_ what she really did wouldn’t even give her.

As she stepped off the stage with her prize, she caught the gaze of the Scoobies in the crowd and the pride in their faces brought tears to her eyes. She returned to Giles, needing a moment with someone who could be more calmly proud without overwhelming her further with emotion. Who knew she’d actually be thankful for a little of that Britishy stiff-upper-lip?

“I didn’t know children in mass could be so gracious,” Giles mused teasingly as Buffy twirled the little umbrella over her shoulder.

“Every now and then, people surprise you.” She replied, carefully setting the toy surprise on a nearby chair.

“Every now and then.” He murmured in agreement. His eyes were soft and overflowing in their pride, and Buffy began to wonder if Giles had left his Britishness at home with his tweed. She couldn’t help but tease him, to lighten the air between them a bit, otherwise, she was totally gonna kiss him. And in that tux, it wasn’t gonna be anything brief or chaste.

“Tell me, did you tear up when they gave me the award?”

“Of course not!” Giles protested, but his eyes darted away from hers for a second.

“You totally cried.” She grinned. “You got all emotional! Over teenagers!” She continued to tease him, poking her fingers in his ribs, and he softly yelped and laughed and pushed her hand away.

“I most certainly did not,” He huffed, not sounding believable at all.

“Gi-i-iles has a hea-a-art,” Buffy sing-songed, tucking her hands beneath his jacket and dancing her fingers against his waistcoat. The fabric was softer than she’d expected, which was a delightful surprise. “I’m gonna tell the whole school that their recluse librarian secretly loves them,”

“You bloody well better not!” Giles returned, trying not to laugh again as he brushed her hands away. “Stop that,” He hissed, turning a little red as he surreptitiously glanced around them.

No one else was paying them any attention, which Buffy knew already. Everyone else was in their own prom-induced haze. Still, Buffy was feeling far too tempted to use her mouth to check out that freshly-shaven jaw of his, and she knew _that_ wouldn’t get by anyone.

“I’m gonna go hang out with Will and Oz for a bit,” Buffy told him, stepping out of his space with a fond smile. “I do love the suit…” She openly eyed him up and down suggestively, and added, “A definite upgrade from the tweed.”

He shifted his weight on his feet, perhaps embarrassed again, but she noticed the way his chest puffed out a little bit too. She patted the lapel of his jacket, smoothing it unnecessarily.

“I’ll see you around, Watcher-mine.” She murmured.

“Enjoy yourself, Slayer-mine.” He smiled softly at her for a moment. The play on her own nickname for him made her blood hum and her heart skip a little bit harder in her chest. She wondered if this was how he felt, every time she called him by that name.

After a beat and realizing that they were still staring at one another, they both turned and headed in opposite directions at the same time, grinning equally excited and nervous smiles.

**... ... ...**

“Buffy!” Cordelia approached with what looked like a genuine smile on her face, which Buffy immediately found suspicious.

“Yes?” She answered carefully.

“Look, I… ” She softened her expression, and leaned in a little closer so their conversation might be hidden beneath the loud music. “Giles seemed to be looking for you, most of the night.”

“Oh. Yeah, demon thing.” Buffy shrugged. “Taken care of. Already told him about it.”

“Oh.” She looked surprised for a moment. “No more hellhound? Good, good…” She hesitated, seeming to war with herself over something, and then huffed and rolled her eyes before leaning in close again. “I think he was looking for more than just a patrol update.”

When she straightened, she raised her eyebrows pointedly at Buffy, and Buffy blinked at her. Just what _did_ Cordelia know, exactly?

“If he received the same Council training as Wesley, he should be a damn fine dancer.” Cordelia shrugged, adopting a bored look. “Just saying.” And with her final word, she turned for the refreshments table, tucked her hand into Wesley’s elbow, and the two of them started chatting about who-knows-what.

Buffy blinked again, in surprise, and then looked toward the door where she’d seen Giles leave a few minutes prior.

“Did you see Giles earlier?” Willow exclaimed happily as Buffy shifted nearer to the group, and she looked dreamy for a moment. Buffy raised her eyebrow, but Oz only looked amused.

“I wonder if that tuxedo was Council-issued.” Xander quipped.

“I’ll go ask him,” Buffy replied casually, grinning. Suddenly, she felt pretty determined to find out if Cordelia was right about the dancing thing. “I need to tell him about the dead hellhounds hidden in the bushes, anyway.”

“But Buffy!” Willow immediately focused and pouted. “Prom is still going strong! The last dance of high school! You can be Slayer later - you should be just Buffy tonight!”

“Oh, trust me,” Buffy’s grin deepened a little as she picked up her little umbrella from the nearby chair and propped it on her shoulder. “I’m gonna be all Buffy.” Oz’s eyes squinted curiously, maybe even knowingly, but Buffy strolled out of the room before any of the gang could question her.

“Did that sound… naughty, to anyone else, or just me?” Xander wondered.

“Xander, you think everything is naughty.” Willow snorted, but after that Buffy couldn’t hear what else was said, as she was reaching the doors and stepping out into the hall.

She’d had a lot of fun already, anyway. There had been dancing with the whole gang, a little flirting from afar with Giles, a sass-off with Cordelia, and some yummy drinks and snacks. She wanted Giles-fun, now. Real Giles-fun.

Well, not _that_ kind of Giles-fun. Not here. They'd already gotten far too close to making that mistake, more than once.

The halls were mostly empty and quiet as she strolled toward the library, taking her time. There were still classes to finish up, and graduation, but somehow this felt like one of the last times she’d ever walk these halls. There was a couple making out in the corner by the water fountain, but she smirked and ignored them, glad that her classmates could have a night of fun without worrying about vampires or demons. She made that happen, and she was proud of it - not only that, but they’d even surprisingly acknowledged her for it! She twisted her umbrella around happily, nudging her way into the library before she realized that only the emergency lights were on.

“Giles?” She wondered, not seeing him at first. Then she spied a soft glow of light coming from his office window, and she approached the doorway to find him sitting at his desk, journal open in front of him and pen in hand. “Always on duty, huh?” She teased, and he jumped before twisting around to stare at her.

“Buffy!” He exclaimed in surprise. “Eh, um… quite, I suppose.” He looked sheepish as he took his glasses off and set them along with the pen down beside his journal. “Much like a Slayer.”

She smiled down at him fondly, enamoured by the gentle light of the desk lamp bouncing off of his cheekbones and his ruffled hair.

“Wh-why are you here?” Giles wondered softly, turning his chair more fully to face her. She leaned her umbrella up carefully in the corner, and held both hands out for him. He took them in his own immediately, but didn’t yet stand.

“I wanted another eyeful of this wonderful tuxedo that all men henceforth will be measured against,” Buffy mused warmly, unable to keep from smiling when his face lit up.

“Buffy,” He crooned, rising to his feet, and she pretended to be confused.

“What? Is there something on my face?” She joked, giving him a knowing grin at the familiar banter.

“I’ve been rubbing off on you, I think,” He grinned proudly, and Buffy raised her eyebrows.

“Have you?” She drawled, shifting closer against him, and he groaned and laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Just for a moment, I was so impressed by your maturity…”

“Hey, I’m impressive!” Buffy protested, and his smile was… something she couldn’t immediately put a word to, but definitely made her feel all tingly inside.

“Mm, that you are,” His voice was warm and rumbly again, and she let go of his hands in lieu of hugging him. “I’m quite proud of you, Buffy,” He murmured into her hair, sliding his arms around her and giving her a full-bodied hug in return.

She melted against him, even happier now than she’d been all night. This was the Giles-fun that she’d wanted. Just the two of them, bantering and touching with the confident ease of old friends.

“You look lovely.” He told her, still holding her, one hand slowly sliding a little lower down her back, to the edge of her dress. His fingers brushing her skin made her shiver a little bit, and she slid her hands up to the nape of his neck, loosely carding her fingers together.

She wasn’t sure which one of them started the moving; one moment they were hugging and the next, swaying gently in the small bit of floorspace the room offered. Giles began humming softly, every now and then a word or a phrase coming out, but mostly he hummed, and Buffy immediately decided that this was already the best dance of the night.

“You have a great voice,” She murmured, not wanting to interrupt him but unable to keep it to herself.

“Oh, I’m not- this isn’t- really singing,” He tried to shrug it off, sounding almost shy about it, and Buffy lifted her head from his shoulder so that he could see her raised eyebrow.

“If this isn’t you really singing then we gotta be careful, ‘cause when you do my panties are likely gonna fall right off.” She warned him.

He blinked at her in surprise, and then laughed. Buffy grinned, too, but when he devolved into giggling she couldn’t stop herself from joining in, and soon enough they were holding one another up as they both gasped for air.

“Very on the nose, by the way,” Buffy told him as she caught her breath. “‘I’ll be watching you’, really?”

“I think it’s quite fitting,” Giles defended himself, straightening his jacket as he also settled from the giggle-fit. He grabbed her hand up into a dancing pose and slid his other hand against her back again, swaying with her a bit more outright as he sang with playful energy, “Oh, can’t you see? You belong to me,”

Buffy snorted and tilted her head back as she laughed.

“How my poor heart aches!” He crooned, on the verge of being simply goofy now, and she braced her free hand against his nape again as she straightened and tucked her face against his neck, still laughing.

Her forehead brushed the softness of his jaw and she tilted her face up to nuzzle it, humming appreciatively. She shifted her head back to look him in the eyes as she brought her hand around to slowly stroke her fingers against his skin. His expression quieted, and grew more hooded as he looked down at her, and their dancing once more returned to a gentle swaying.

“It’d be hard for you to watch every breath I take,” Buffy told him, “when you take my breath away.”

His eyes softened even further, his expression filling with love for a moment, until his lip twitched. Buffy tried not to grin again, but couldn’t quite succeed, and soon they were giggling over themselves again.

“Oh, that was cheesy!” Giles exclaimed with mirth, and Buffy jokingly pushed him out of her arms.

“You still owe me ice-cream, mister!” She pointed out with a defensive huff.

“For what?” He protested, reaching for her to try and pull her close again, but she playfully blocked his hands and stepped back toward the doorway.

“You jinxed the prom!” She reminded him. “We had a deal!”

“I agreed to no such deal!” Giles insisted, following her, still reaching, and she laughed softly as she pushed his arms away again and pointed toward his desk.

“Turn the lights off, Giles. We’re going to get ice-cream.”

“Oh, we are, are we?” He raised his eyebrow, but he didn’t pause before moving to turn the lamp off and then locking his office door behind him.

Maybe it should’ve been weird, walking into the grocery store with him at ten-thirty in the evening, both of them in their fancy clothes as they raided the frozen treats aisle. Buffy didn’t feel weird in the slightest, even as they were paying the older lady at the register, two pints between them. The employee complimented their fancy outfits and hoped they’d enjoy their dessert, and when Buffy tucked her hand around Giles’ elbow as they walked back to his car, he leaned comfortably against her as if he weren’t bothered either.

It was way better than L.A.

Buffy kicked her heels off as soon as they’d returned to his apartment, and as she was gathering spoons and putting one pint in the freezer for later, he removed his shoes and socks as well, along with his jacket. When she met him in the living room, she was happy to see that he didn’t do anything else other than loosen his bow tie in his collar.

“Which one is this, then?” He wondered as he settled on the end of the couch, reaching out to take the container Buffy handed him.

“The one with brownie bits in it,” She replied as she hopped onto the couch next to him, tucking her dress against her legs so she could curl her knees up onto the couch and lean against his side. “So, what did I miss? Anything good?” Buffy wondered of the dance prior to her arrival, as she passed him one of the spoons. After he opened the ice-cream, he lifted his arm for her to snuggle in closer, and she complied with delight, enjoying the weight of his arm around her shoulders.

“Wesley making a right fool of himself most of the night.” Giles sighed as he scraped his spoon against their frozen dessert, annoyed, and she grinned in amusement.

“Oh I _am_ sad I missed that,” She nestled in a little more against his side, her palm on his chest, and played with the end of his bowtie. “At the very least your sarcastic quips!”

“I might’ve compared him to a pastry.” Giles admitted with a giggle around his bite, and Buffy gaped at him.

“Not a jelly doughnut!” She hoped, and he frowned, indignant.

“Of course not!” After a beat he added, “I would never insult a jelly in such a manner.”

Buffy was the one who giggled then, and he held the container for her to grab a scoop.

“I did see them dancing,” Buffy mused after a moment of quiet eating. “Wesley and Cordelia. Did she have to ask him?”

“No, actually,” Giles actually sounded a little bit impressed by Wesley, or maybe just surprised, “He stopped… fluttering about.”

“Hm. Good for them.” She ate another spoonful slowly; it had been a long, emotional rollercoaster of a day, and coupled with chasing after hellhounds then followed by dancing with her friends, Buffy was exhausted. Ice-cream was yummy but it wasn’t actually a necessity tonight. She leaned forward to set her spoon on one of the drink coasters on the coffee table, before nestling back against the couch, and Giles took one more bite himself before closing up the container and setting it aside with his spoon.

“Do you… wish that we had…?” Giles asked quietly, and she shook her head.

“In the gym? No. Wes and Cordy… they can get away with that in a way that we couldn’t.” She admitted and he looked appeased. She hadn’t realized he’d been  _ that  _ concerned about it. “The other kids don’t know Wesley as a teacher in their school for the last three years. Besides that, Cordelia has always been the kind of person to get away with having a much older boyfriend.”

“And you aren’t? Sayeth the woman who’s  _ only _ had much older boyfriends?” Giles sassed lightly as he gathered the spoons and eased himself to his feet to take the ice-cream back to the freezer.

  
“Of course, they already think we’re weird,” Buffy mused, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Maybe they wouldn’t be surprised by it.” She shrugged, then, and smiled at him as he came back into the living room. “I got my dance, in  _ our _ spot. And now I’ve got my cuddles.” She patted his abandoned seat, and he returned to it.

“I hope having to deal with hellhounds didn’t ruin the entire night, for you.” Giles murmured, curling his arm around her again, his fingertips making random shapes on her shoulder.

“No,” Buffy promised softly, resting her hand against his tummy. “it was perfect.” She felt him press a kiss against her hair before he rested his head on top of hers, and she closed her eyes as she let the contentment wash over her.


	12. Chapter 11 (Graduation, pt. I & II)

“I didn’t realize there was a duel for my honor,” Buffy quipped as she slowly walked across the library floor, coming to rest in the doorway to Giles’ office so she was out of their way. Wesley had removed his jacket, Giles pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, and they both had practice swords in their hands.

Wesley narrowed his eyes at her as he stretched his arms a little.

“Simply getting a little warm-up in,” The younger Watcher huffed. “I have training with Faith, this afternoon…” He winced slightly at that, and Giles gave Buffy an amused look and winked at her. Wesley noticed that, and frowned.

Buffy quickly intervened before Wesley could make a comment, holding up the newspaper to show the men the front page, which read “Professor Found Murdered” in all caps. She’d spied one of the students reading it in the hallway and had snatched it off him.

“The mayor,” Buffy informed them, and Wesley tilted his head as he glanced over the headline.

“Are you sure?” He asked dubiously, continuing to stretch.

“Neck punctures? No blood on the scene? It was a vampire attack - but more importantly it was a vampire attack in broad daylight. Who else would be able to persuade a creature of the night to do such a thing?” Buffy raised her eyebrow pointedly at Wesley as she handed the paper off to Giles.

Giles began to open it and Wesley tapped his rapier on the floor impatiently. Buffy gave him a look, as did Giles, though her Watcher did turn so that his armed side was toward Wesley as he began to read the article.

“Brutally mutilated…” Giles mused, easily blocking Wesley’s first thrust of the blade. “Lester Worth, visiting professor of Geology…” Giles parried Wesley’s next two attacks just as easily, seemingly entirely focused on the newspaper in his other hand, not looking at Wesley once.

Buffy pressed her lips together as she watched him, and folded her arms across her chest. He was so showing off. And sure, she liked it, but still. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction by _showing_ how much she liked it. She wasn’t _that_ easy… really.

“There’s nothing here that bellows ‘motive’,” Giles noted, stopping a high swipe from Wesley before glancing toward Buffy again.

“Random killing, perhaps?” Wesley suggested. “Fit of rage?” He darted in for two more quick moves, which Giles also calmly blocked, and Buffy raised her eyebrow. Finally Giles went on the offensive, and pushed Wesley back a few steps with some fancy swordwork of his own. To his credit, Wesley managed to block him, though he wasn’t breathing correctly and already started to sound winded as he spoke again, “Everyone does seem to be going a bit mad, lately. The mayor has something of a head start.”

“Doesn’t read,” Buffy replied, trying not to get too distracted by how good Giles looked. “Even if the mayor was angry about losing Faith, I think this was homework.” She eyed Giles with a small smile, admittedly impressed by his footwork. He didn’t waste a moment of energy; Wesley was definitely moving around too much. If this were a real fight, Giles would win in a heartbeat.

She’d expect nothing less from her Watcher.

Giles blocked a swipe toward his thigh, and parried Wesley’s rapier away so that he could focus toward Buffy again.

“The mayor wanted the good professor out of the way.” He followed.

“Which leads to the question, ‘how come?’ I’m going to destroy the entire city, but I take the time to kill harmless Lester first?”

“Tying up loose ends?” Giles figured, on track with her. “Lester had something or knew something.”

“Then I wanna know, too. If the mayor’s trying to hide, I say we go seek.” She stepped forward to take the paper back from him, giving him an impressed look-down while her back was toward Wesley.

Giles’ expression didn’t change, but his eyes glinted with a cocky pleasure, and Buffy was so going to tease him about this later on. She couldn’t do it right now though, with Wesley right there, so she headed for the research table and sat down against it, reading over the newspaper article again to see if she could figure out the professor’s address.

“Ah!” Wesley realized. “By attempting to keep a valuable clue from us, the mayor may have inadvertently led us right to it!” He enunciated with a flourish of his blade, and Buffy glanced back up toward him in mild amusement.

“What page are you on, Wes?” She teased, inwardly happy when Giles joined her against the edge of the table. “‘Cause we already got there.” Giles set his rapier aside and folded his arms across his chest, his shoulder leaning against hers a little bit.

“Yes. Well. You will go tonight, look over his apartment, anything of note, report back here.” Wesley informed her, and she could just barely manage to keep herself from laughing as she sassed,

“I just love it when you take charge, you man, you.”

Wesley stammered for a moment and looked unsure.

“...Was that a yes? I have trouble keeping track.” He gave them both a dry look as Buffy heard Giles’ quiet snicker beside her.

“I’ll go.” Buffy assured him.

“Be careful.” Giles advised. “If the mayor’s lackeys should show up again- ”

“I don’t think they’ll show.” Buffy told him appeasingly. “Been there, killed that? Vampires aren’t much for follow up.” Her eyes kept getting distracted by his sweater. Was it a new one? She couldn’t recall seeing him wear it before.

He wore it _very_ well.

“Nonetheless. Keep watch?” He gave her an imploring look, and she lifted her eyebrow at him briefly.

“Isn’t that your job?” She asked in her perfected ‘air-headed blonde’ voice, and Giles ducked his chin a little and smiled like he couldn't help himself. Buffy glanced at his chest again, tempted to reach out and touch the soft-looking material.

“Don’t,” Wesley’s warning was serious but respectfully low in consideration of the fact anyone could walk into the room, “let your feelings interfere with your work.” He held the blade of his rapier near the guard, and pointed the grip in their direction.

Giles rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper from Buffy again, unfolding it further to check for any other suspicious articles.

“Talking with Giles _is_ my work.” Buffy returned as Wesley stepped around to the other side of the table to set his rapier atop it. They’d already had this conversation more than once. She would include Wes in on stuff now, but she wasn’t going to stop seeking Giles’ help or opinions. She gazed at Giles’ profile as he scanned over the paper, letting herself sit happily in the warm fuzzies that just looking at him filled her with. “Take a beat to love the synergy.”

“Our priority is stopping the Ascension.” Wesley told them as if they needed reminding, as if he were fed up with them.

Giles tilted his head back in annoyance, staring at the ceiling for a moment as if he were begging it to fall on him right now.

“What the bloody hell do you think we’re talking about,” He started to grumble under his breath, as Xander strolled quickly into the library with Anya in tow and said to Wesley,

“Easier said than done, monarchy boy.”

Giles straightened his head and made a face that said he was clearly wondering whether or not he should be annoyed by the nickname as well.

“Xander,” Wesley sighed, “If you don’t have anything constructive to add…”

“You guys want to know about the Ascension?” Xander announced, and when he had everyone’s attention, he held his hand out toward Anya. “Well, meet the only living person who’s ever been to one.”

**... ... ...**

The library doors creaked open and the Scoobies turned toward them in surprise, that surprise quickly growing into horror when none other than the mayor himself walked through the doors.

Thank _God_ Faith was still laying low at Buffy’s house.

“So!” Mayor Wilkins sauntered into the room like the usual charismatic politician he tried to portray. “This is the inner sanctum…”

As he approached, Giles immediately got to his feet, and Oz pushed Willow behind him as they backed closer to the table and the rest of the group.

“Faith told me this is where you folks like to hang out, and concoct your little schemes.” He mused as he approached them, and Buffy slowly tucked the newspaper folded up behind her, where it wouldn’t catch his eye. He didn’t need to know that they were on to him. “How _is_ my Faith, anyway?” His smile was nasty, and Buffy wasn’t the only one who bristled at it.

As much as Buffy wanted to snarl at him that Faith wasn’t his and never was, she was glad that everyone kept their mouths shut. They didn’t want to reveal their ace until the last possible moment.

“No matter. She won’t be held your prisoner for much longer, in any case.” He shrugged happily, and looked around the group again. “You know, I’ll tell ya, it’s just nice to see young people are still interested in reading in this modern era.” He looked toward Giles, as if to identify with him, and Buffy could see the tension in Giles’ jaw.

The mayor chuckled, and stepped closer to the table, brushing by Giles as he reached for one of the books resting open. Giles’ body tensed further, and he looked as if he were barely breathing. Buffy clenched her fists but continued to sit carefully still, watching the mayor closely.

“So, what _are_ kids reading nowadays?” Mayor Wilkins held the book up and read a passage from it, “‘The beast will walk upon the earth and darkness will follow. The several races of man will be as one in their terror and destruction.’ Oh, that’s kind of sweet!” He lowered the book and smiled at them. “Different races, coming together.”

“You never get even a little tired of hearing yourself speak, do you?” Buffy glared at him, but he only chuckled again as he set the book back down on the table.

“That’s one spunky little girl you’ve raised.” He muttered to Giles, and Buffy glanced toward the others in concern as Giles’ muscles coiled like a taut spring.

Oh, hell; the mayor was just trying to get a rise out of Giles, and it was working.

She continued to glare at the man as he stared at her for a lingering moment, not letting him see how he gave her the total wiggins.

“I’m gonna eat her.” Wilkins promised darkly, and just as Buffy opened her mouth to snark back a retort, Giles lunged for the rapier left abandoned on the table.

Buffy slid to her feet but Giles was already thrusting the dulled end of the fencing sword into the mayor’s chest, and she stared in horror and amazement as he stumbled back a few steps, equally surprised.

Everyone was dead still, and then the mayor held his hands out to the side and gave Giles a put-out look.

“Whoa! Now, _that_ was a little thoughtless.” He chided Giles, and then carefully pulled the rapier out of his chest.

Giles had forced that thing in a good few inches, and Buffy couldn’t help but be a little impressed about it. Still, now the weapon was in the mayor’s hands and if he decided to return the favor to Giles, it wouldn’t end as well for Giles.

Buffy stepped closer to him, still sort of behind him but where she could quickly pull him out of the way if Wilkins attacked him.

“Violent outbursts like that, in front of the children?” He gestured toward the other Scoobies, who were staring intermittently between both Giles and the mayor, unsure about which one to be more worried about. “You know, Mr. Giles, they look to you to see how to behave.” Wilkins pointed the blade in Giles’ direction.

“Get out.” Buffy ordered him lowly. Instead, he continued to stare at Giles, unblinking, and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his blood from the rapier.

“I smell fear,” He murmured darkly. “That’s smart. But some of your deaths will be quick, if that’s worth anything.” He tucked his handkerchief away and flipped the rapier around to hold it blade-down. “Well. See you all at graduation,” He spoke brightly again, and tossed the rapier to Giles, who snatched it out of the air tightly. “You don’t want to miss my commencement address. It’s going to be one heck of a speech.”

As the doors swung shut behind him, no one moved, and Buffy slowly turned her head toward Giles again. He still looked too high-strung, too much adrenaline rushing through his veins, and Buffy took a step closer and slowly reached for the rapier.

At her movement, the others all focused on Giles as well, amazed and disturbed by what had just happened. Buffy ignored them, and slowly wrapped her hand around the dull blade just beneath his grip.

“Let it go, Giles.” She whispered, speaking for more than just the sword, and his grip briefly tightened for a moment. She covered his fist with her other hand, not forcing him to loosen it yet (she could though, if she wanted to, but she’d probably break his fingers at the rate he was holding on). “Give me the sword, Giles.”

“We need to find a way to kill him.” Giles declared, his voice a growl, and Buffy nodded in agreement although he was still staring toward the doors.

“And we will.” Buffy promised.

Anya made a soft noise of disbelief, and then grabbed the strap of her bag and hurried out of the library without another word. Xander glanced at Buffy and she nodded, so he went after her.

“You aren’t going to kill him with this, Giles.” She pointed out softly. “You already tried that.”

After another heartbeat, his grip loosened slightly, and she gently twisted the rapier out of his grasp. She set it back on the table as his arm fell lax to his side, and then briefly looked toward the others. She nodded her head at Willow, then toward the second floor of the library, and she quickly understood and reached for the books on the table, handing a few off toward Oz and stacking the rest in her arms.

“We’ll just go put these away, until later,” She murmured, hesitantly glancing at Giles one more time before leading the way up the stairs. The mayor had smelled fear in the others, alright - but at least a part of that fear was pointed toward Giles. None of them had quite seen an outburst like that from him before.

Wesley was the only one left, but whether she liked it or not Wesley already knew more than enough about their relationship, so Buffy ignored his presence.

“Sit down, Giles.” Buffy hummed, taking his arm again and tugging him gently toward the chair. She could see his muscles shaking slightly, the body’s natural response to excess adrenaline dissipating, and if he didn’t sit soon he would likely collapse.

Some part of him knew that, too, because he let Buffy guide him into the chair, and didn’t say anything when she slid her palm up his arm to rest against the nape of his neck. He tugged his glasses off his face wearily and tossed them onto the table, rubbing his eyes.

“I’ve warned you more than once about your emotional- ” Wesley started, and Giles shifted forward as if he were about to jump up and throttle the man, and Buffy gripped the back of his neck tightly as she firmly interrupted,

“Now is not the time, Wesley.”

“Well…” He stammered at the murder still in Giles’ eyes, now pointed in his direction, and dropped his head and fiddled with the forgotten newspaper as he muttered, “You put a weapon in his hands. He could have easily killed you, and at the very _least_ ,” his voice raised in pitch just a bit again, “He is still a functioning mayor. He could have you deported, arrested, for assault.”

Giles snorted derisively, but leaned back into the chair again and propped his arm on the armrest, scratching his brow in a bit of an anxious gesture. He was annoyed with himself, because he knew as well as Buffy did that Wesley was right.

Buffy rubbed her fingertips against his skin a little, and then pushed her fingers up into the back of his hair. His shoulders tensed briefly, but when she started a soothing petting motion he immediately relaxed, further than before. Wesley glanced up toward them again, his lips pursed in disapproval, but Buffy stared him down and dared him to say something else.

“I’ll go ask Willow to fetch Mr. Worth’s home address for you.” Wesley announced quietly, in a tone that clearly stated he was leaving them (moderately) alone against his better judgement, and then disappeared up into the second level as well.

Giles sighed and leaned his head back over the back of the chair, finally slumping completely with eyes closed, and Buffy continued to card her fingers through his hair. She was comforting herself, too, and Giles blindly reached up with his right hand to grasp her arm and tug her more directly behind the chair, closer, until her tummy rested against the top of his head. Then, he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

“I’m alright.” He murmured honestly. “Thank you.” Her hand had shifted to his shoulder and he took it so he could lift it to his lips and kiss her palm. “I’m sorry, that was very stupid.” He held her hand against his chest, and she could feel that his heart rate was calming down. She nodded at him in complete agreement, but then couldn’t resist smirking a little.

“Kinda hot, too, not gonna lie.”

He blurted out a short laugh at that, and her smile widened. She couldn’t resist leaning down closer and brushing her nose against his forehead, giving him a warm kiss there. When she straightened, and gingerly pulled her hand free, his expression was all soft.

“I need to go home, and get my Mom out of here.” She announced quietly. “No matter what’s gonna happen, I can’t focus while I’m worrying about her being in the audience somewhere.”

Giles straightened, gathering himself back together and retrieving his glasses from the table.

“That’s a good idea, but how will you get her to agree?” He wondered dubiously.

“I’ll think of something. …Do you want to… ” She hesitated, and he raised his brow in question. “Come with me, to the professor’s place tonight. Watch my back with those fancy sword moves of yours.” She grinned wryly, and he looked a little embarrassed again. “Plus, you’ll probably know the right stuff to grab better than I would.”

“I’ll meet you there this evening,” He promised softly.

“We’ll figure it out, Giles.” She said firmly. “The mayor thinks he can come into _our_ place, and gloat? He’d better think again.” Calm confidence in his eyes again, he nodded more firmly, and Buffy headed out to try and get her mother out of town.

**... ... ...**

“Something… about excavation… volcanos?” Buffy wondered as she glanced through the black folder in her hands. Giles glanced up at her, nose-deep in his own file.

“Anything that connects Mr. Worth to the mayor?” He wondered hopefully, and Buffy grimaced and shrugged.

“I mostly only understand the commas.” She admitted, and Giles gave her a slightly wry look.

“Add it to the box,” He gestured his head toward the file box they’d set on the coffee table, adding files and papers at random as they found anything that might even remotely be Sunnydale-related research. “We both know you’re much smarter than you act you are, Buffy. I don’t know why you continue saying things like- ”

“Yeah, yeah, got it Giles,” Buffy mumbled as she spied a few notebooks on the shelf beneath the table. She crouched to dig them out, and glanced at them only briefly before adding them to the box. “You don’t want a dumb girlfriend,”

“You’re _not_ a dumb girlfriend,” Giles corrected her firmly, coming closer to add the files in his hands to the box as well. Buffy tilted her head at him and gave him a curious smile.

“Oh? So I’m a girlfriend, now?” She wondered, and he darted his gaze away, stepping toward the bookshelf in the corner of the room. She sighed, and picked up the box to hoist it against her hip. “I already checked that one, Giles. I actually recognize most of the books there, and they’re not related.”

“Al-alright.” He didn’t quite look at her as he paused, still standing on the other side of the room. “I suppose that’s everything, then.” Buffy blinked at him, purposely silent to make him more uncomfortable. “Let’s take it back to the library so Wesley can help me look through it,”

“You _stabbed the mayor_ in my defense, and you can’t even outright call me your girlfriend? When it’s just the two of us?” Buffy grumbled as she led the way out of the apartment and down the hall. A part of her kind of hoped he would slip on the freshly-mopped floor, but then she considered how concussion-prone he was and decided that wasn’t a good idea.

“Buffy,” Giles sounded exhausted behind her. “You and I have both agreed that we cannot- we are not- not until at least this Ascension is dealt with, we can’t,”

“I know, Giles.” Buffy huffed, interrupting his stammering. “I get it. I’m just frustrated, okay? Aside from after the prom we haven’t had time to hang out, like _really_ hang out, in ages. Everything’s been about the Ascension, or vampires, demon-this, demon-that. And _God_ , then you go and do stuff like today and I just want to- ugh!” She shouldered her way out of the building’s main door and onto the sidewalk outside, remembering to check for traffic before starting across the crosswalk.

“Buffy,” Giles had to take big steps to catch up with her, but his legs were long enough that he managed it easily. “Listen,” He touched her elbow and she stopped, turning to face him, the box held in her arms between them. “I understand that, too. Sometimes my… my hormones get away from me, as well,” He gave her a careful, apologetic smile, and she squinted at him.

“You can’t keep kissing me like you do.” She told him seriously. “Not if you don’t want me to be your girlfriend right now.” He glanced hesitantly around them, but the other pedestrians weren’t paying them any attention.

“You know I could say the same thing to you,” Giles pointed out. “And it’s not that I don’t want you, Buffy, God, I- I want you in- in every way.” He told her seriously, his tone dipping a little in a way that immediately gave her the tinglies, regardless of her frustration. “But sometimes we just can’t have what we want. You’ve learned that with Angel, I’ve learned that… over the years.” He grimaced, toward himself more than anything. “Sometimes it feels impossible to control myself around you. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry for the position it puts you in. But Wesley is right; we need to focus- ”

“Never?” Buffy interrupted him quietly.

“What?”

“Sometimes we can’t have what we want…” She repeated, and then questioned again, “Never?”

“No, of course not never,” Giles pushed his hand through his hair, agitated. “I’ve asked you to wait for a few years! I know I haven’t helped make that easy and I’m certainly going to do better in that regard- ”

“You told me Nikki Wood died when she was twenty-two.” Buffy interrupted him again, speaking firmly again now. “That’s less than four years, Giles.” He paled a little bit at that, and she continued, “If that’s all I’ve got, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life just sitting behind a desk and occasionally smooching my boyfriend on holidays! I want fondling on movie dates, I want comforting cuddles when I fail a test, I want walks through the cemetery at night and making out against the headstones, and dammit - I want sex!”

A few people nearest them startled and glanced incredulously toward her, before she glared at them and they hurried along. Giles looked bewildered, and somewhat terrified.

“I want all of it, Giles,” Buffy lowered her voice again, and shifted the box under one arm so that she could poke her finger against his chest. “I want hot sex, I want awkward sex, I want sleepy sex, I want weird sex, I want kinky sex.” He blinked at her, wide-eyed. “With you.” She poked him hard again before lowering her hand.

“H-h-how- how l-long has it b-been since you’ve, you’ve, um, patrolled?” Giles asked her nervously, and she gaped at him. “S-slain a… proper vampire?”

“You think this is just a Slayer thing?!” When he didn’t respond, she dropped the box to the ground and threw her hands up into the air. “Any other guy would’ve been dragging me back to his place after a declaration like that!”

“Well,” Giles huffed hotly, severely uncomfortable and embarrassed for the publicness of this conversation, and reached up for his glasses, “maybe you should find- !”

He cut himself off with a short grunt, and in the same breath Buffy held hers.

There was an arrow sticking out of Giles’ chest, just to the left and above his heart. Buffy blinked at it, as if doing so would make it disappear like a hallucination.

He looked down at it, and then back up at her, his mouth still hanging open mid-word. His hand drifted down from his untouched glasses and onto her shoulder, and she reached to grab onto his arms just as his knees gave out beneath him.

“Giles?” She tried to lower his much taller frame to the ground as gently as she could, holding him on his side in her lap to keep pressure off the arrow sticking through him. Her brain wasn’t quite firing on all cylinders; it just seemed to be bouncing the question ‘arrow?’ around her skull over and over again.

Giles’ breath panted out in short gasps, shock flooding his system as he stared up at her wide-eyed... until his eyes rolled back into his head and fluttered closed.

“ _Giles?_ ”

She glanced around frantically, trying to see where the arrow could have come from, but people were beginning to crowd around them and she didn’t have a clear view of the rooftops. There was shouting for an ambulance, and someone kneeling on the other side of Giles with their fingers on his wrist, gauging his pulse, but Buffy’s brain didn’t kick into full focus until she was sitting tucked into the corner of the ambulance, the box secured tightly in her arms on her lap, while medics hovered and flitted around Giles on the gurney.

They had him sitting up, his body turned slightly to the side, so they could look at both sides of the protruding arrow. As Buffy’s head cleared, she acknowledged that it wasn’t so much in his chest as it was his shoulder, and that eased her worry a little bit.

“Airway is clear,” “Pulse elevated but that’s to be expected,” “Sir, can you hear me?” “Not a lot of blood loss,” “Too close to the chest,” “Call for a CT scan,” “Operate,” “Possible infection,”

Buffy closed her eyes and shut out the noise. She thought of an apartment, yellowed with warm sunlight. The slightly bitter smell of tea. Giles’ shoes by the couch. Giles’ favorite mug on the table. Giles, mirroring her Tai Chi movements, his voice calm and guiding.

When she felt like she could breathe inside of her own skin again, she opened her eyes.

“He answers to Giles.” She informed the medics. “His blood type is AB positive.” (Thank goodness, as often as he ended up hurt). “He’s not on any prescriptions right now but he sometimes takes stuff for migraines… I don’t know if he has recently.”

“Thank you,” One of the medics turned toward her while the other jotted down notes for the doctors. “What’s your name, ma’am?” Buffy knew the guy was just trying to make sure she stayed calm and collected, but she wanted him to keep his focus on Giles.

“Buffy, I’m- I’m his… friend.” She trailed off, knowing now was not the time to deal with that. Lester’s apartment hadn’t been the time to deal with it, either, honestly. And most definitely not in the middle of the street.

God, if she had just- kept it to herself, or, hadn’t gotten all whiny and self-centered about it- they’d been standing out in the open, in the middle of the night, raiding a home the mayor had wanted- fuck, Wesley was right. At least his distractions for Cordelia were brief and generally within safe spaces - she’s just gotten Giles _shot_ for her lack of focus.

Talk about a douse of the coldest water, though. Have sex with one guy, get him turned into an evil demon. Just _talk_ about sex with another guy, and get him almost killed.

She should join a convent.

“How did this happen, Buffy?” The medic continued to focus on her while the other began talking to Giles by name, trying to get a verbal response out of him.

“I don’t know, we were just…” She shook her head, sitting stiffly in her seat. The mayor had police on his payroll; for all she knew the paramedics could be too. “It came outta nowhere. An arrow!” She laughed half-hysterically, as if it were ridiculous - in a busy city street in any other town, it would’ve been - “What in the world could they have been aiming at?”

Had they been aiming at her, for a head-shot? Or had Giles been the intended target?

“Are you alright, ma’am?” The medic asked with concern, and she nodded.

“I wasn’t hit. Please… just take care of him?”

“We will.”

She wasn’t really alright, but, she wasn’t the one with an arrow sticking through her body.

**... ... ...**

In the ER waiting room, Buffy filled out forms while Giles was taken back for scans and who knows what else to make sure the arrow hadn’t pierced anything terribly important.

Well, for Buffy, it already had. All of Giles was terribly important, in her book, and whatever or whoever it was that shot that arrow was as good as dead.

Still, there were forms to fill out, first. Then she called the library and explained to Wesley what had happened, but that they had things from Lester’s apartment that needed keeping away from the authorities. She tried Willow next, but she didn’t answer.

There was too much unknown, and Buffy was still terrified. She was halfway through dialing her home phone, for her Mom, before she remembered that she’d successfully persuaded her Mom out of town.

So she slouched quietly in one of the hard plastic chairs against the wall, the half-forgotten box tucked into her lap again, keeping her eyes down and away from the writhing pregnant lady and the man with thick gauze around his hand and the wailing child.

For Sunnydale, she was actually surprised the ER wasn’t more busy.

“Buffy?” Wesley slid into view, his eyes searching twice through the room before they landed on her. “Are you alright?” He approached her quickly. “Was it the- ”

“Don’t know.” Buffy tersely interrupted him, giving him a warning look. “Not something we should talk about here.”

“Right.” Wesley realized, and shifted his shoulders. He hesitantly glanced around, and then slowly eased into the chair next to her. She decided to let him, knowing his nearness would make it a little easier to keep their conversation private. “How is he?”

“Don’t know yet. He woke up just before the ambulance got here and they seemed happy with his responsiveness but…” She hesitated. “They don’t know how serious it is yet. It was in his _chest_ , Wes.”

“It, uh…” He seemed unsure of how to respond to her. “He’s- he’s a strong fellow. He’ll be right as rain soon enough.” Buffy glanced toward him in surprise at his attempt to comfort, and he smiled hesitantly. Then his eyes dropped toward the box in her lap. “Is that…?”

“Everything we figured might be important.” Buffy nodded. “I don’t recommend going through it here. Take it with you back to the library?”

“And leave you here by yourself?” Wesley asked dubiously. She slid the box over into his lap.

“I’ll be fine. We need to figure out what the professor knew.”

“Quite right.” Wesley almost seemed pleased by her focus for a moment, but then he glanced toward the doors that read ‘authorized personnel only’. “Be careful, Buffy,” He murmured in warning, “Don’t go seeking vengeance. That’s likely what the- what _he_ wants.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Buffy told him firmly, and he made a face like he was certainly even more worried now. “I’m not the blind-vengeance type.”

When he was gone, and after a nurse had come to inform Buffy that the arrow had successfully been removed from Giles’ chest and had only required mild surgery, and after he’d been settled in a recovery room and she was allowed to join him, Buffy dragged the room phone to the far corner by the window and dialed one more number.

“Faith. You busy? There’s a mystery I need help solving and it involves an attack that happened on Main Street tonight.”

_“I heard something about that. What’s going on, B? Shootouts with vampires in public are sort of more my thing.”_

“I don’t know if a vampire was specifically involved, but I’ve narrowed down my list of one suspect.” Buffy replied wryly. “He got Giles, Faith.”

_“G-man is hurt? Shit.”_ Faith was silent for a second. _“He? You talkin’ about the mayor? He’s not the type to get his own hands dirty…”_

“He came into the library earlier today, to show off I guess, I don’t know. But Giles attacked him.”

_“Shit!”_ Faith sounded impressed now. _“Granted, useless. He remembered the guy’s invulnerable, right?”_

“It was a bit of a heat of the moment thing.” Buffy drawled. “Anyway, can you look into it for me? Wilkins might not have fired the arrow himself, but it’s gotta be him. He wants to get back at Giles, he wants to throw me off.”

_“Why Giles, though? I mean, other than trading blows.”_ Faith wondered. Buffy sighed.

“Giles had attacked him because he’d made a direct threat toward me,” She admitted. “So now he knows how much… we mean to one another.”

_“...How’s he doin’?”_ Faith asked carefully after a respectful pause. As much as she mocked and teased, Faith knew that whatever it was between Buffy and Giles, it was deep and it was serious.

“Sleeping right now. He’ll probably be fine… just won’t be swinging a sword around too easily anytime soon.” Buffy winced as she eyed the wraps that were tucked around Giles’ shoulder, arm, and chest, securing the bandages over his healing wound. Because of what had happened in the library, the mayor also would’ve known to make sure Giles was wounded on his dominant side.

_“I’ll let you know what I find.”_ Faith told her, and Buffy added quickly before she could hang up,

“Be careful? Don’t get too close to the mayor if you can help it. And if you find out the culprit… you have my permission to make him very, very dead.”

_“With relish.”_ She could hear Faith’s grin over the line, then it went silent.

Buffy hung up the phone, and continued sitting on the windowsill for a while, gazing out into the darkness, hoping that Wesley would be able to find something in those files. They needed to be worth this, otherwise… otherwise Buffy was just going to be pissed, and a pissed off Buffy made promises to no one.

When she looked back toward Giles, his eyes were open, and resting on her. She startled, then slid her feet to the floor and hurried to the side of his bed, setting the phone down on the end table without looking away from him.

“How do you feel?” She asked him, lightly touching his forearm on his good side.

“Like I was shot with a bloody arrow.” He replied dryly. “Are you alright?” He asked more softly, shifting his arm so that he could guide her touch down to his hand, where he could hold hers properly.

“Me? I’m fine.” She gave him a fond, exasperated look, also answering before he could ask, “Wesley has the files. He’s going through them now.”

“Good.” He released a careful breath, and relaxed his head against his pillow again, closing his eyes.

“You should rest,” She tried to pull her hand away, but he tangled their fingers together and she didn’t want to pull too hard against him, not even on his uninjured side.

“Buffy, wait.” She did, nervously. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and looked at her. “I want all of it with you, too.” He whispered.

“That- that wasn’t the right- we shouldn’t have had that conversation there, Giles, I know,” Buffy glanced away, chagrined, but he squeezed her hand a little to get her to look at him again.

“I’m sorry that I assumed it was merely due to your Slayer… er, instincts,” He told her, and she winced in chagrin again.

“As usual, Buffy opened mouth and inserted foot… I didn’t really explain myself very well.” She admitted, and his eyebrow twitched upward a little.

“I think the message was fairly clear,” He noted, and she blushed.

“I just meant that… that there are things I want to do before I die. Things I want to learn… about myself.” She looked him directly in the eyes. “Things I want to learn about myself with you.”

“I would…” He smiled carefully. “You know how I- I- enjoy my research,” She fondly rubbed her fingers against his, and admitted quietly,

“I think a lot of it was my hormones. I was just so… I was scared for you this morning, with the mayor, but I was also so impressed by you… I don’t know, it was just like I was suddenly hit with this desperate _need_ to be with you, different than when things get a little hot and heavy in the moment, you know? It was like a…”

“Biological imperative?” Giles figured.

“I guess so.” She half-shrugged, apologetically. “And I do want you, Giles, don’t get me wrong. That wasn’t just an overreaction - there are things I want to learn about you, too.” She gave him an earnest look, and he swallowed as his fingers squeezed reflexively around hers. “But I miss my friend, the most. We’ve been so crazy about this whole thing with the mayor - I honestly feel like I’m not hanging with _any_ of the Scoobies like we used to. Prom aside.” She stared distantly at the wall, getting caught up in her thoughts. “Is this the beginning of the end?”

“This isn’t the end, Buffy - the mayor will not win. We won’t let him.” Giles insisted firmly.

“Not that,” Buffy met his gaze again. “high school. Graduation. What if this is it for the Scooby Gang? We get our diplomas and go our separate ways?” She suddenly felt deeply emotional about that in a way she hadn’t up to this point, in a way that she hadn’t expected.

“Buffy,” Giles squeezed her hand a little, as much as he could manage in his exhausted state. “Willow and Xander will never leave you, not completely. You’ve been through far too much together.” After a moment of quiet, he added, “Over the summer, we could… before college begins for you, I mean, we could… have some movie nights. Get together.”

“Longer and hotter days equal less vampires,” Buffy noted hopefully. “More Scooby time.”

“Exactly.” Giles nodded encouragingly. Buffy looked down at their hands, and brushed her fingers along his knuckles.

“More Gilesy time, too?”

“Until you’re absolutely sick of me, I hope.” He gave her a lopsided smile, and she shifted closer to lean over him and press her mouth against his cheek. When she eventually straightened again, his smile was a bit dopey.

“Please get some rest, Giles. I should head back to the library and see if Wesley’s made any progress.” Buffy told him, and he nodded and slowly let go of her hand.

“Do you know who…?” He trailed off and glanced down at his chest. Only then did he seem to realize that he was otherwise shirtless, and he suddenly blushed.

“I’m pretty sure the ‘who’ is obvious.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “But I have Faith on it. She’ll find out who he had pull the trigger. …The string.”

She watched him fiddle with the sheet at his waist for a moment, to pull it up further over his chest, and she reached out to tuck it carefully up to his shoulders. Frankly, she was too worried about him to really make any flirty comments, and the bandages wrapped around him only made that worry more pronounced. He looked a bit sheepish for a moment, still blushing, but Buffy decided not to tease him about it. Too much.

“Shall I sing you a lullaby? Do you want some warm milk?”

“Go away.” He grumbled, and she snickered and stretched forward to kiss his forehead, careful not to put weight on his chest.

“Bye, honey,” She said, as if she’d said it a hundred times before, and shot him a grin over her shoulder as she left his room.

He looked startled, but pleased.

When she was in the hallway, however, her smile fell away. Did the mayor want Giles dead, or just incapacitated? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to ask Angel to guard his room, just in case… and the irony of that was not lost on her. But she didn’t know where any of the others were, and she could trust that Angel was more than capable enough to hold off any possible danger at Giles’ door. Anyway, Angel had already promised her that he would never hurt Giles again.

She resolved to stop by the mansion on her way to the school, and crossed her fingers that Angel would be there.

**... ... ...**

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be vertical right now?” Xander asked dubiously as he helped Giles into the library and toward the table already strewn with books.

“Most assuredly not.” Giles grumbled. “Anything new?” He asked the gang. Buffy skipped forward and pulled a chair out and pointed at it; Giles made a face at her but dutifully sat. He grimaced and shifted his left arm a little in discomfort, and Buffy pressed her lips tightly together as she refrained from saying anything.

They’d already had their debate about this, but Giles had gotten himself released from the hospital nonetheless, so there was nothing she could do save for knocking him unconscious and tying him up to his bed.

When a part of her lingered too long on the tying-to-the-bed part, she shook her head clear. She wished he’d at least listened to her and put on one of his soft t-shirts. While she did manage to get him to wear one of his softer button-ups, he’d still insisted on throwing a waistcoat over it, though she refused to allow him to button it. Nothing too snug, right now. He could cover himself in his proverbial armor later.

“Wes? You wanna start?” Willow, sitting at the computer along with Oz, called across the room to where Wesley was sitting at the back of the table with files and papers all around him.

“Ah- yes, right,” He cleared his throat slightly. “I’ve been looking through the files from Mr. Worth’s apartment; it seems he headed an expedition in Kauai, digging through old lava beds near a dormant volcano.”

“Volcano!” Buffy repeated brightly toward Giles, and pointed at herself. “Smart girl-! Uh, Slayer.” She winced apologetically at him for her excited blabbermouth, though he didn’t look too annoyed about it. He pursed his lips a little bit, mostly hiding his smile.

“Smart girl Slayer can do read?” Xander teased.

“He found something underneath,” Wesley continued, speaking louder and mildly vexed over them. “A carcass, buried by an eruption.”

“A carcass?” Giles half-turned in his chair to face Wesley in interest, but it put more weight on his left side and he immediately hissed quietly and shifted back to his previous position.

“A very large one. Mr. Worth posits that it might be some heretofore undiscovered dinosaur.”

Giles and Buffy shared a look.

“A demon?” Buffy guessed.

“That would be something the mayor would want to keep a secret. If it’s the same kind of demon he’s turning into and it’s dead, it means… well, he’s only impervious to harm until the Ascension.” Giles lit up a bit with hopeful excitement as the realization came to him. “In its demon form, he can be killed.”

“Great,” Buffy sassed, pulling the container of prescription meds out of her pocket and handing it to Giles, who was starting to look a little pale. “So all we need is a million tons of burning lava. We’re saved.”

“The local villagers near the volcano site make references to ‘The Legend of Olukai’,” Willow added from behind the computer, but her expression dropped a little. “Still trying to figure out what demon that might be…”

Giles frowned thoughtfully as he dumped the pain medication into his hand, cupping the extra pills back into the container until he held just one. As he stared off into the distance, somewhere deep inside of his mental library, Buffy traded him the container of antibiotics next.

“Olukai…” He muttered to himself, tapping a pill into his palm to join the other one before sliding the container onto the table. Buffy rolled her eyes and put the lid back on, taking both of the little bottles to his office for safe keeping. “I know that name… it sounds like… what does it sound like?”

“Xander?” Buffy requested when she came back out into the main room. “I think it’s time for sustenance.”

“Can do.” He immediately stood at attention. “The usual?”

“Coffee, for me,” Giles requested distractedly as he swallowed his meds, and everyone stared at him except for Wesley, who was in his own world again with Lester Worth’s files.

“Aren’t you supposed to drink tea?” Xander asked suspiciously.

“Tea is soothing. I wish to be tense.” Giles informed him, his mind still primarily elsewhere.

“Okay, but you're destroying a perfectly good cultural stereotype here.” Xander replied.

“Coffee all around, Xan.” Buffy suggested. “If you can get in, try raiding the teacher’s lounge first. Rather you not have to go very far.” She wasn’t sure why, but now that her Scoobies were all in the same room together, she didn’t think it was safe for them to separate. She wasn’t going to dare ignore her instincts at this point in the game.

“If I can get in?” Xander repeated with a lofty scoff. “The finest Columbian lighter fluid, coming right up!”

“Ah! It could be a bastardization of Olvikan!” Giles suddenly exclaimed, and Xander hesitated only a few steps away from the table, curious about a possible revelation.

“Who’s Olvikan?” Oz wondered.

“It’s a demon, a very old one, I might have a picture,” In the excitement of his research-zone brain, Giles automatically put his left hand on the arm of his chair to push himself up, but immediately winced and collapsed back down. “Bloody hell!” He clasped his right hand over his shoulder.

“I’ll get it! Jesus, don’t pull your stitches,” Buffy begged him, hopping up the steps to the second level of the library. “Point the way!”

“Um, try the uh, the shelf there, behind the globe,” Giles directed as he tried to manage his breathing and swallowed down the pain.

Between the two of them it took a minute to grab the right book, but once she had it in her grasp she came back down the stairs and set it on the table where she and Giles both could look through it. He carefully shifted forward in his seat and began flipping pages, and Xander drifted over his other shoulder, curious.

Giles stopped, suddenly, and Buffy couldn’t read the language on the page but by Giles’ face she guessed it was the one.

“Hey,” Xander noticed one of the pages folded out from the inside seam, and he gingerly opened it… and then opened it again. The three of them stared at the picture revealed.

“What is it?” Willow asked urgently.

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat.” Xander announced gravely.

“Willow, can you fetch the um… Kippler volumes?” Giles requested immediately. “You’ll have to- to check the card catalogue, I’m afraid, I can’t recall… right now…” His unfinished sentence trailed off as he squinted his eyes at the book he had in front of him. “Bloody pain medication.” He grumbled, suddenly sitting back in his chair.

“You’re taking it.” Buffy ordered him.

“I already took it!” He pointed out in annoyance, and she folded her arms across her chest.

“And you’ll take it again when it’s time for the next dose!”

He pursed his lips at that, but said nothing else. Xander slowly inched his way toward the door.

“I’m just gonna go get that coffee now.”

“What are we looking for?” Oz wondered as he helped Willow pull a few books off the shelves.

“Uh…” Giles paused for a moment, then remembered where his train of thought had been. “Any reference to the demon Olvikan - powers, weaknesses, _hat size_ , there’s got to be something.” He took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, no doubt already exhausted. He’d been tired before they’d finished checking him out of the hospital.

“I demand an explanation.” Cordelia burst through the doors and walked determinedly up to the research desk, ignoring everyone except for Wesley and Giles, having no care in the world that she might be interrupting something.

“For what?” Buffy frowned.

“Wesley,” Cordelia barely glanced at her before looking toward the man in the back corner. “I hear something about a fight, and then nothing? No word about Friday night date night?”

“Ah, um, uh, Cordelia,” Wesley only just then seemed to know she was there, and he scrambled to sit upright, awkwardly.

“Date night?” Buffy repeated slowly, looking toward Giles, who studiously looked everywhere else.

“And of _course_ I find you in here with the rest of these nerds,” Cordelia huffed, sounding mostly confused more than anything else.

“W- well, Mr. Giles, you see,” Wesley began to explain to her respectfully, and she scowled and huffed at Giles,

“What, just because you hang around like some lovesick loser all the time, Wesley has to, too?”

Giles stared up at her silently as he tossed his glasses onto the table in frustration.

“Cordelia!” Buffy snapped, hoping no one thought too hard about Cordy’s phrasing. “We’re trying to stop a massacre here. Wanna give us a hand?”

“…Sure.” She mumbled. She shrugged her coat off and went over to join Wesley, who gave her a shy and apologetic look before shifting some things aside to give her room. She smiled a little back at him, and Buffy looked away, too weirded out by things too similar.

“Can we go over what we know?” Buffy suggested pointedly, both to bring Cordelia up to speed and also get everyone’s mind on the same track again.

“The mayor’s giving the commencement speech at graduation.” Oz piped up as a starter, and Buffy nodded at him in appreciation.

“Also referred to as his Ascension Day,” Willow added. “Where he’ll turn himself into a big ol’ demon. But not like an Earth demon - something way bigger and way nastier than anything we’ve ever faced before.”

“Likely, an Olvikan. The last was seen centuries ago, and destroyed an entire village in minutes.” Giles explained, slouching a little toward his right side and leaning his elbow against the armrest, propping his head in his hand.

“So he’s planning on the graduating class to be his first meal of the day.” Oz clarified.

“Oh, goody.” Cordelia murmured. “Perhaps maroon was the perfect color choice after all. At least it’ll hide the bloodstains.”

Giles’ eyes were getting droopy again, and Buffy knew the meds were finally kicking in.

“C’mon, Giles,” She touched his good shoulder. “Why don’t you move to your office? The reading chair in there is at least more comfy than this one.”

“I’m fine,” He mumbled his assurance. “I’ll have some of Xander’s coffee and be right as rain,”

“Nap first, then coffee.” Buffy nudged him. “Trust me.”

He grumbled under his breath, but let her help him stand up from the chair and shuffle tiredly to the office.

“What’s wrong with him?” Cordelia wondered, though Buffy wouldn't say her tone quite reached compassionate.

“He was shot with an arrow earlier this evening.” Willow announced matter of factly.

“An _arrow_ ?” Cordelia repeated incredulously. “Like _Robin Hood_?”

“We think it was a vampire that did the shooting, actually.” Oz told her. “One of the mayor’s cronies.”

“The mayor tried to take out _Giles_ ?!” Cordelia sounded even more incredulous than before. “Does he _want_ to be on Buffy’s kill list?”

Buffy smirked a little to herself at that, as she held both of Giles’ hands in her own and watched him closely as he lowered himself into his chair.

“Well, technically, he’s already on Buffy’s list.” Willow reasoned.

Buffy stopped listening to them, and crouched between Giles’ knees, her hand on one for balance as she looked up at him.

“Do I need to check your stitches?”

“No,” Giles sighed. “Please go help the others. Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t make me worry.” She returned in warning, and as he rested his head against the wing-backed side of the chair, he slid his fingers slowly across her thumb, back and forth. “Are you sure you want me to go?” She whispered. “I could stay for a few minutes.”

He didn’t immediately answer, but stroked his fingertips along her knuckles and fingers, like he was committing the shape of them to his memory. It was oddly intimate, and she kept still as she watched him.

“The mayor wants you distracted.” Giles finally spoke, gently. “Don’t be.” He gave her an encouraging smile and let his hand slide away from hers. “Come wake me when Xander returns.”

Buffy straightened, then reached down to rest the palm of her hand against the uninjured side of his chest, keeping it there until she could feel their body heat together seep through the fabric of his clothes.

Then she turned and headed out to prepare for war.

**... ... ...**

  
  


By the time Buffy had come up with a solid (or as solid as it was gonna get) plan, the sun was up, everyone was well-caffeinated, and even Angel and Faith had joined them in the library. As everyone split up to deal with the final preparations, Buffy dragged Giles back into his office.

She thought for sure she was going to have to argue with him a little, to persuade him, but as soon as Buffy gripped his waistcoat and carefully tugged him into the corner away from the door, he was already pulling his glasses off and setting them out of the way on the nearest bookcase.

They kissed passionately, rigorously, as if they both wanted to feel the pressure of the other’s lips long after they went their separate ways. His hands rested comfortably against the curve of her waist, hot even through her layers of clothing. Giles tilted his head and moved his mouth against hers until her body was thrumming with energy, and when she couldn’t help but whimper softly, her fingers clutching at the back of his shirt, he slowly began to gentle their kisses. Before he eventually leaned completely away, she nibbled his lip between her teeth, drawing a warm and quiet groan from him.

The sound made her hair stand on end, and she just barely resisted doing it again, lest they make too much noise and get caught. He rested his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath, taking their time, until they were breathing as one.

“Are you ready?” He murmured, without pulling away yet.

“Are you?” She returned, slightly teasing.

“It- it should be I.” He sighed, distantly horrified about his part of the plan. “Strangely fitting, in a grotesque fashion.”

It kept him away from the battlefield, too, and made it exponentially less likely that he would aggravate his injury.

She tilted her head back against the wall behind her, to better look him in the eye, and gave him a fond smile as she patted the uninjured side of his chest.

“I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far.”

He gave her a wry look, but leaned in to kiss her deeply one more time, in a single long breath. His mouth felt so perfect against hers, she still could hardly wrap her brain around it.

“I’ll see you on the other side of this.” He said as he parted from her again and this time took a full step back.

“You will.” She promised him with a nod.

**... ... ...**

“I, um,” Giles tucked his glasses back onto his nose, ducking his head. “I should go and attend to Wesley, see if he’s still, uh, whimpering.” He let out a giggle at that, and as he moved to step around her Buffy grabbed onto his coat to stop him. He gave her a curious look.

“There is one thing… my mind is totally sure of.” She told him, using her other hand to tuck her diploma carefully into the inside of her jacket. He lifted his eyebrows a bit in question, and she said, “Wesley can wait.”

She stepped backwards, using her grip on his coat to pull him along with her, hiding themselves between the two fire trucks where she hadn’t seen anybody go for the last five minutes.

“B- Buffy…” His tone was hesitant, but his eyes were intense and he was already leaning his head down close enough that their foreheads almost touched.

She pushed his back up against the side of one of the trucks, and then cradled his face between her hands, eyeing him more critically for a moment. His skin was smeared with black soot from the smoke, as was hers, but he didn’t seem to have any injuries.

Well, any other injuries.

“Did I hurt you?” She worried suddenly, touching her palm gently against his chest, and he shook his head and laughed that same giggle he had earlier. Incredulous, and amazed. Alive.

“No, no - between the pain medication and the adrenaline, I’m feeling quite wonderful right now actually.” He licked his lips nervously as he stared at her mouth. They could still hear the firemen and other emergency responders tramping around just on the other side of the trucks, but for now they were alone.

“Sorry,” Buffy winced anyway, tucking her hand beneath his jacket to rest her palm on his shirt. Her other hand rested still against his cheek, and she slowly brushed her thumb against his skin. “You blew up the high school, Mr. Giles.” She whispered in awe, and his responding laugh at that was tinged with a bit of terror.

“I have, haven’t I?” He paused for a moment. “What comes after that? Is this an ice-cream situation, or…?”

“Ice-cream is for sads.” Buffy informed him with a slow, beaming smile. “Smoochies are for happies.” She shifted her thumb down to touch the corner of his mouth, where it quirked upward. “Are you feeling sad, or happy?” She asked him, and he seemed to consider that question seriously for a moment.

“There were a lot of wonderful memories in that library,” He mused longingly, then admitted, “A lot of not-so-good ones, too.” Come to a decision, he met her gaze again. “I believe this is a, um, happies situation.” He smiled, and she stretched up on her toes to kiss him, her tired muscles providing the perfect excuse to lean her weight against his broad frame.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, heedless of the bandages that she assumed were still around his left shoulder, and returned her kiss with enthusiasm. He danced his lips against hers and swiped his tongue inside, his eagerness making her shiver.

“Um… hey! Can you not do that against the truck? Step away, please.” A fireman decked out in his gear startled them apart, and Buffy bit her lip as she stepped back and gave Giles a moment to compose himself.

“Sorry!” She apologized demurely, but then Giles was grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him again.

“We’re not against the truck anymore,” He reasoned, leaning in and kissing her again like they’d never been interrupted.

“Uh, well… just don’t let me catch you on the equipment again.” The fireman warned, sounding both awkward and impressed at the same time. The clump of his boots sounded away, and Buffy tangled her fingers into Giles’ hair as he slid his tongue inside of her mouth again. For an English guy, he sure knew how to _French_.

Before she could giggle at her own thoughts, Giles popped open the button on her jacket and slouched his body a little so that his hips were more aligned with hers, and Buffy had to tilt her head back to catch her breath.

“Oh, definite happies situation,” She groaned softly in pleasure as she felt the bulge in his trousers. She pressed against him more firmly, rolling her hips a little, and he latched his mouth onto her neck to quiet the pleased rumble that emanated from his chest. “The man said no touching the equipment,” Buffy jokingly complained, scratching Giles’ nape approvingly as he tugged her shirt collar out of the way with his fingers and worked what was most definitely going to be a hickey against the curve of her neck.

“If you’re about to make a fire hose joke, I’m stopping immediately,” Giles warned against her skin, though he continued kissing her anyway.

“No jokes,” Buffy promised, and wiggled a hand between them and tugged open the next button on his collar so she could slide her hand against his warm skin. “Though we should- mmm… we should, uh,”

“Stop?” Giles guessed, licking his tongue against the front of her throat before kissing underneath her jaw. She shuddered and rubbed her groin against his more directly, and he hissed quietly as his teeth nibbled the curve of her jaw. “Christ, those leather pants…”

“You like?” Buffy teased, out of breath, also liking. Her pulse was hammering now and she knew if they kept at this, he was gonna make her come. “Cuz I like. God, I like…” She hitched her knee around the back of his to make sure that he knew he could continue.

“This is such a terrible, bad, idea,” Giles moaned, nonetheless beginning to purposefully thrust his hips in a rhythm she could easily respond to.

Buffy gripped the back of his head with one hand and his right bicep with the other, hoping that she didn’t bruise him too badly because her brain was functioning on even less levels than it had been before, and she had no fathom of anything other than the desire molten between them.

If this was the start of finally taking the next step in their relationship, it was a damn good start in her book.

“Giles,” She panted, already there, almost embarrassed by how quickly she was so close just from some heavy making out and a little clothed humping.

Well, alright, ‘just’ nothing. This was _Giles_ who had a serious hard-on for her and was kissing her like he was making love with his mouth.

She arched against him suddenly, pressing in firmly as she came, and buried her face into his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her soft cry. He held her tightly against him as she rode it out, murmuring amazed and happy words against her ear, and she could feel his arousal twitch heavily even through their layers.

“Giles,” She crooned his name when she had the breath to, petting through his hair softly, hoping that she hadn’t tugged on it too hard, sliding her hips along his in longer gestures to urge him to come too. “I love you,” She sighed muzzily, pressing her mouth against the bit of his chest showing from his opened collar. Here, he smelled less like soot and fire, and more like Giles.

He gasped suddenly, a heavy low breath that sounded almost like surprise, and grunted as his hips jerked.

“Buffy- _Ah_ -” His eyes screwed shut tightly for a moment before his expression dissolved into pleasure, and Buffy watched in amazement as he let himself ride the wave of his orgasm.

When he eventually stilled, panting lightly and looking a little bit more flushed than he had before, he slowly ran his hands up and down her back and looked down at her. She knew she was still staring, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’ve never done that before.” She blurted, and then blushed. That hadn’t been what she was thinking about; she was thinking about the fact that she now knew what kind of face Giles made when he was- oh man, she needed to stop thinking of it, or they were going to get into real trouble with that fireman again.

Giles made a somewhat embarrassed expression, and settled his breathing as he rested a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“It’s, erm, been a while since I’ve- fully- uh, fully clothed I mean, I don’t m-make a habit of, of,”

“Can we make it a habit?” She stared at him with wide eyes, and he grimaced a little and shifted his weight on his feet.

“It would be an uncomfortable one,” He admitted, and she winced as she realized she agreed. Her underwear was starting to uncomfortably stick to her.

They looked at one another for a moment, and maybe it could have been awkward, but then as if somehow on the same cue they both grinned, and then giggled. When they realized they were both giggling, they started laughing harder, and Buffy nestled against his chest as he attempted to keep them both upright.

“That was crazy!” Buffy exclaimed, mostly speaking of the battle they’d just survived, and felt him nod against her head as if he’d understood perfectly what she’d been referring to. Heck, maybe he did. He kissed her hair, and she rubbed the back of his shirt beneath his jacket. As they settled down again, Giles sighed and gently stepped back from her, resting his hands on her shoulders. She let hers fall to her sides, knowing they’d already been hella lucky they hadn’t been caught yet.

“I love you, Buffy.” He murmured, and she smiled softly at him. He tenderly rebuttoned her coat for her as he said, “I don’t want us to be- be fondling in the shadows all the time. I’d like to- to take this slow, with you.”

“Slow?” Buffy repeated, amused. “Have we not been?”

“If- if our lives allow it, I’d like to take you out. Properly. Dinner, movies… a museum or two, perhaps…” He suggested that last one hopefully, and she squinted at him, though mostly just to be teasing. “Buffy… you’ve had a lover in the shadows, once. I don’t want that for you again, and f-frankly I don’t want to be that.”

“I don’t want you to be that, either.” Buffy admitted, and he smiled a little as he lowered his hands from her. He slipped his jacket off and folded it over his right arm, holding it casually in front of his waist, and then chuckled a little embarrassedly. He winked, though, and she snorted in amusement.

“Can you promise me something?” He asked, suddenly serious, and she silently waited for him to continue. “You’ll be off to college after the summer,”

“If this is going where I think it’s going,” Buffy warned slowly.

“If you meet someone,”

“Dammit, Giles.” Buffy sighed tiredly, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious, Buffy. I love you more than I could possibly say, but I want you to- ”

“To what,” She snorted again, derisive this time, and folded her arms across her chest. “Sow my oats?” She raised her eyebrow, and he hesitated.

“Well…”

Buffy shook her head slowly at him, and reached for his free hand, holding it in both of hers, relaxed between them. She just stared at him for a while, taking in the planes of his face, his relaxed-though-exhausted expression, the warmth of his eyes.

“You’re my someone.” She eventually spoke, calm and factual. He smiled a tiny smile again, but Cordelia’s voice drifted toward them before either of them could say anything else.

“ _There_ you are. We’ve been looking for you.” She complained, coming around the front of the fire truck, and she called behind her, “Hey guys, they’re over here!”

They were just letting go of one another’s hands as the other Scoobies came into view, and Willow tilted her head curiously.

“Look what Giles brought me!” Buffy announced perkily, pulling the rolled paper out of her coat and turning to approach them.

“What!” Willow grinned excitedly, successfully distracted, and she looked at Giles hopefully. “Did you find mine?”

“Ehm, uh, no… sorry.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I- I didn’t really…” He trailed off.

“Watcher’s pet,” Xander whispered loudly, smirking, and Faith grinned too as she folded her arms loosely across her chest. Willow looked briefly disappointed but then smiled again.

“Are you okay?” She asked Buffy softly, and Buffy gave that serious consideration as she tucked her diploma back into the safety of her coat.

“Yeah,” She nodded, and glanced briefly at Giles again. “I’m okay.” The excited little energy boost she’d gotten from her orgasm was already waning, however, and her body reminded her how little she’s slept in the last few days. “I could use a little sleep, though,” She admitted.

“Yeah,” Willow agreed seriously.

“Guys, take a moment to deal with this.” Oz mused, looking out at the smouldering wreckage of the school. “We survived.”

“It was certainly a, an intense battle,” Giles noted as he stepped a little closer toward the group, fiddling his glasses off his face. When he realized that he couldn’t retrieve his handkerchief easily with his jacket still in his other hand, he hesitated, before slowly putting his glasses back on.

Buffy had to bite her lip to keep from snickering.

“Not the battle.” Oz corrected him, and then smiled in a way that almost neared triumphant, for him. “High school.” They all stood together in silence, watching as the few remaining firemen prodded through the wreckage to snuff out any remaining hotspots.

“Oh,” Giles sassed in surprise, “Are we actually taking a moment?” Buffy glanced over at him and smirked, and then tucked her arm around Willow’s and began to lead them off of the property.

“And we’re done.” Oz announced, taking Willow’s other hand as he joined them. Cordelia, Xander, Faith, and Giles all fell in line as well.

“What about Wesley?” Buffy wondered, as Giles walked on her other side, close enough that his arm occasionally brushed against her shoulder.

“Bugger him,” Giles muttered, and Xander blurted out a laugh in surprise. “What? I don’t want to listen to him whingeing all night.”

“Well Cordelia, here’s your chance,” Xander leered teasingly. “You can tend to Wesley’s wounds, and- ”

“No, no,” Cordy interrupted him, sounding sort of nervous and definitely uncomfortable. “I um, saw him earlier, before they took him to the hospital. He’s… he’ll be fine.”

“That wore off quick.” Xander chuckled knowingly, more relieved about it than mocking.

Buffy noticed from the corner of her eye how Giles glanced over at her, thinking, worrying, and she slowly tucked her fingers around his for a moment, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He nodded, more of a blink of his eyes than anything else, and gripped her fingers in return before sliding his hand free to tuck it into his pocket.

He walked even closer to her now, though, his arm pretty much constantly against hers, and she smiled as she looked to her other side toward the rest of her friends.

This wasn’t the end of the gang, it was only the beginning.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the summer after graduation...

“Buffy’s gone to the store to pick up something for me,” Joyce’s voice carried through the opened kitchen window as Buffy approached the back porch. “If you don’t mind waiting, she should be back soon. Would you like anything? Water? Iced tea? No- sorry, iced tea is probably an abomination to you English types,” Joyce laughed, gently teasing, and Buffy couldn’t hear the response but she recognized the tones of Giles’ voice.

She slowed and quieted her steps, setting the paper bag down carefully near the door so that it wouldn’t make any noise, and then she crouched beneath the window, curious to listen in a little longer while they thought they were alone.

“Actually, while we have a moment…” The sink ran, the sound of the water covering up Joyce’s voice for a moment, “...about something.”

“Thank you,” Giles presumably accepted the glass of water from her mom. Buffy slowly peeked her head up, and then stayed where she could see inside after she was assured they couldn’t see her spying. “Go ahead.”

Giles was sitting at the island counter, taking a drink of water and then setting it down in front of him. Joyce leaned back against the edge of the counter opposite him, folding her arms loosely across her chest as she eyed him thoughtfully for a moment.

“I’m worried about you two.”

“Us… Buffy and I?” Giles wondered, and Joyce nodded. “There’s n-no need. Summer’s are longer and the nights are much more hot - vampires are- are practically dormant in this area this time of the year. It’s why we’ve been m-more than capable of keeping things relatively calm, when Buffy’s decided to spend the holiday with her father, previously.”

“Just, in general. You and I both know, Buffy has… been through a lot. Had to grow up fast. Sometimes even I forget that she’s still just a young lady. She’s just starting out in life,” Joyce explained, and while Giles nodded slowly, it was clear that he wasn’t sure where this was going. Joyce took a breath. “But when it comes to you, she’s just like any other girl in love.” Giles’ eyes widened at that and Buffy felt a little bit mortified, but Joyce continued on, “You’re all she can see of tomorrow. But I think that we both know that there are some hard choices ahead… If she can’t make them, you’re going to have to.” Joyce blinked at him, and he gave her a single, short nod.

“I think you’re wrong about a part of that.” Giles murmured softly. “Buffy thinks quite a bit about her future, about college, about what sort of job could possibly supplement her Slaying,”

"I know she's the Slayer... and as much as neither of us wants to think about it, that comes with the very real threat of a- a short life."

"Not if I can help it." Giles stated firmly.

"I know.” Joyce’s voice had softened, too. “Your... determination to keep her alive, your loyalty, it's something that I appreciate more than I can say. But still... she'll always be my little girl, even when she gets to be my age and I end up wrinkled and white-haired. I want the best for her."

"Any decent parent would."

"…I know you care about her. I know you…” She trailed off, as if she wasn’t sure what exactly to say. Starting again, she stated plainly, “If she were a… normal girl, and this was a normal situation, I would have castrated you a long time ago." Giles winced at that, and still hidden on the back porch, Buffy did too. "But her life hasn't been normal, and it won't ever be normal. She has to find a new normal, a normal that she can live with and enjoy."

"I agree.” Giles nodded. “I've told her... she should focus on college right now, not so much on being the Slayer. With her test scores, she could do well in Northwestern, or UC, or wherever she decides. We could - myself, and perhaps Wesley, and Faith - we could manage the Hellmouth for a while, even when term starts."

"You wouldn't go with her?" Joyce asked in surprise. "If she went elsewhere for school? Out of state?"

"I…” Giles shifted a little in his seat, like he was nervous. “She m-more than deserves a break from being the Slayer. She deserves to, to experience college like anyone else,"

"But she can't, not really, right? You told me early on that being the Slayer attracts danger to her. The vampires will know who she is, what she is, just like they do here."

"True," Giles admitted, "But it is very likely the um, action, would not be as frequent away from the Hellmouth."

"Wouldn't you  _ want _ to go with her?"

"I'm sorry?"

"If Buffy leaves, wouldn't you want to go with her?" Giles was silent, but a muscle in his cheek twitched obviously enough that Buffy bet her mom even noticed it. "Say she could handle it. Say the vampires are scarce and the campus is relatively quiet and safe - would  _ you _ be able to handle it? Being apart from her?"

"I-I, I would…” He winced, and then quickly tugged his glasses off of his face and gave himself a moment as he dug into his pocket for his handkerchief and began cleaning the lenses. “I would miss her terribly.” He whispered, looking down at his glasses instead of at Joyce.

Buffy held her breath, a bit surprised by his admission but extremely touched. He’d always been so immediately supportive and encouraging of her talking about leaving Sunnydale. It was actually kind of nice to hear him actually say out loud that he would miss her at least as much as she would miss him.

(But really… he couldn’t come with her?)

“But I- I want what’s best for her, too.” He softly cleared his throat, put his glasses back on, and straightened his shoulders. “I won't- won’t be the one to hold her back." Giles stated firmly. "I won't be the one standing in her way, ever. Buffy is capable of great, wonderful things. She has the- the most compassionate heart, even with her duty, even after ev- everything she's been through, out of anyone that I've ever known. She's i-intelligent, quick, and- and loyal. She has the world at her feet."

Joyce stared at him for a long moment, looking both fond and vexed at the same time.

"Buffy's version of normal, Giles - that world that's at her feet - that includes you. Her Watcher, standing by her side." Giles looked just as surprised as Buffy felt. "I know my little girl can more than take care of herself. But as her parent, I feel much better about her being out in the world when she has you backing her up. This world is full of demons and evil that will seek her out and she shouldn't have to deal with any of it alone. Why do you think I let her hang out in cemeteries with you in the middle of the night all the time?"

Giles raised his eyebrow. "Because once Buffy decides something, it's entirely impossible to change her mind?" Joyce laughed at that.

"That too. Which is why... I think you need to have a talk with her. Buffy loves you. She's loved you... fiercely, for longer than I'd care to admit. And I think that if she goes off to college alone, without you, that it will hurt both of you. Because you love her, too."

Buffy grimaced and blushed, embarrassed that her mom had been aware for much longer than Buffy had thought. Giles had that tiny little pleased smile on his face though, like he couldn’t help it, and that warmed her to her toes. Her mom could probably only see the embarrassment that quickly took over Giles’ face at the rest of her comment, but Buffy knew what tiny things to look for in his expressions.

“There is this relationship between you two that I still don’t understand, and sometimes I wish that I did, but, what I do understand is love. And I’ve… not seen a deeper love between two people. Whether that’s because you’re fighting battles together every night or what, I do believe one thing.” Joyce paused, and Giles asked softly,

“What’s that?”

“The two of you being apart, for whatever reason, is a horrible decision. Not only for yourselves, but for the rest of us as well. For the world that needs the Slayer and her Watcher.”

“I… I’m very touched, Joyce, but we’re talking about college, here. A chance for her to broaden her horizons with a group of peers her own age that don’t know her as the Slayer. Not many other Slayers, maybe none at all, have had this opportunity before.”

“And what, you think she can’t do that with you around?” Joyce asked dubiously.

“She has… said something similar.” Giles admitted. “That she can… be with me and also friends her own age. But Willow, Xander, Oz… they are a rare breed. And I think that if they knew the true extent of my relationship with Buffy they would have quite a few opinions about it.” He glanced toward Joyce hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable using that phrasing with her mother, but Joyce didn’t look angry or disgusted.

She looked surprisingly calm, actually. Giles seemed surprised by her attitude, as well.

“You think they don’t already know?” Joyce raised her eyebrow, and he paused for a moment before speaking.

“Even if they do, they know Buffy and I as Watcher and Slayer. They know we already began with a… bond, that’s different. A stranger wouldn’t know that. A new friend wouldn’t understand that.”

“Do their opinions matter that much to you? Strangers that don’t know you?” Joyce asked, and Giles shifted uncomfortably.

“Buffy would want to make new friends, she would care.”

Buffy chose at that point to butt in, picking up the bag of groceries and stepping into the kitchen through the back door.

“No I wouldn’t.” She assured Giles, softly. “If they didn’t like you, then they wouldn’t be friends of mine.”

Both adults were startled by her presence, and Joyce glanced toward the opened window.

“How long have you been listening in?” She asked disapprovingly, and Buffy moved close to set the bag on the counter and then hugged her.

“Long enough to know I’ve got the greatest Mom in the world.”

Joyce returned her hug warmly, and teased,

“Well, I won’t lie and say you make that easy…” Both ladies laughed a little, a bit self-deprecatingly, and eventually Buffy stepped back.

“Also, super glad you didn’t castrate Giles.” She added seriously.

“Buffy!” Giles protested, turning red, and Joyce looked severely uncomfortable.

“Oh!” Buffy realized what she’d implied, and tried to backtrack. “Not because- I mean, I’m just talking for future reference!” Giles closed his eyes and dropped his head, and Joyce’s eye twitched. “I mean,  _ way _ future reference.” Buffy added, and Joyce gave her a look.

“You forget that I already know you’re…” Joyce hesitatingly glanced toward Giles before looking back to Buffy, “Sexually active. You did tell me about what happened with Angel, after all… Look, just don’t… I’m at the ‘you can hold hands in front of me’ stage, okay? Don’t push it.”

“10-4.” Buffy nodded vehemently. Immediately though, she slid into the seat beside Giles and tucked her hand into his, on top of the counter. “Holding hands happily, can do!” Buffy announced brightly, and Giles blinked a whole bunch before letting out a measured breath. “By the way,” She said to both adults, much more calmly, “I’m going to Sunnydale.”

“What?” They asked in surprised unison, and Buffy nodded.

“I’m sort of getting the hang of being Buffy and being the Slayer at the same time. Plus… the people in this town, a lot of them are already used to seeing me and Giles wandering around together. If somebody else has anything to say about it, I’ll sic a vampire on ‘em.”

“Buffy.” Giles chided.

“Just sayin’.” Buffy shrugged. “Our job is here. Our lives are here. UC Sunnydale is actually a pretty good school, if having that on my resume mattered. Anyway, Willow and I had a long talk about it before the whole demon-mayor thing went down. It’s one of the reasons she’s deciding to stay, too.”

“And you’d want to continue to deal with the demons, the prophecies, all that comes with living on the Hellmouth?” Giles questioned.

“Well… like you said, we happen to have a handful of experienced demon fighters still living here. Plus another Slayer. Pretty sure I can manage, maybe take a few days off every now and then.”

“And… me?” Giles asked softly, and Buffy frowned.

“You were definitely one of those demon fighters I mentioned.” She tried not to get distracted daydreaming about their patrols together, and how once summer had started, he’d been taking a more active role in fighting.

“I mean… patrolling the streets at night is one thing, Buffy, and at school I had the excuse of being your librarian,”

“Flimsy excuse,” Buffy interrupted with a roll of her eyes.

“P-perhaps,” Giles stammered, “But walking down the street in the middle of the day? Shopping in the grocery store together? Going out for- for coffee? These things have different implications, Buffy,”

“And they’re all things we’ve done before.” She frowned. “In L.A.”

“L.A. is a town where many things go overlooked.” Giles remarked dryly, and Buffy snorted.

“So is Sunnydale.” She pointed out, and he made a face that conceded she was right. “Look, Giles, I’m not just some swoony little school-girl. I’m the Slayer. I’m just trying to live my life, day by day, in the best way I can. And the way I see it, you’re a part of that ‘best’ equation,” Buffy informed him seriously, liking the way her mom had put it, and he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles as he gave her a small smile. She glanced toward her mom, her tone revealing her discomfort as she admitted, “You’re not  _ all _ I see in my future… but you are there. I couldn’t begin to imagine it without you.”

Giles’ smile widened, his eyes crinkling in the corners and the green irises bright and shining. He was definitely who taught Buffy what those romance novels meant by “falling into someone else’s eyes”.

“Wait a minute,” Joyce spoke up slowly, reminding them of her presence. “L.A.? When? When you were gone last summer?”

Buffy winced and ducked her head, and Joyce narrowed her gaze at Giles.

“You told me you’d never found her,” Joyce’s tone was warning, “You told me you spent the entire summer looking for her.” She definitely sounded more dangerous than the Scoobies had when they’d found out.

“I-It, I, we,” Giles stuttered.

“It was only for a week!” Buffy explained hurriedly. Her mom might have warmed up to their relationship lately, but there was no way she’d be happy with the assumption that they might’ve started something inappropriate while Buffy was still underage. “The last week, before I came home. I… I had a demon problem, and needed his help. I didn’t want everyone else to come running when I was planning to come home soon anyway. I asked him not to tell.” Buffy continued to hold his hand, tightly now.

“A demon problem?” Joyce asked dubiously. “Which included grocery shopping and coffee dates?”

“Friendly ones!” Buffy defended. Joyce looked at them for a long time.

“Was that when this started?” She asked, gesturing with a nod toward their hands. She looked like she still wasn’t one-hundred percent in acceptance zone of that idea, but she wasn’t kicking Giles out of the house yet, which Buffy took as a good sign.

“No,” Giles answered immediately, sure in his tone, though Buffy contradicted him almost at the same time,

“Yes.”

Both of the other adults looked at her, and she shifted in her seat.

“Well, it’s when it started… just not when it began.” She paused, before explaining, “Giles became my friend in L.A. I mean like,  _ Giles _ . Not my - not  _ just _ my - Watcher. We got to know each other even better as people. And he never tried to take away the independence I’d built in L.A. Even when we came back and I had to be training and a high school student again, Giles never… ordered me around. I always had a say… even when sometimes he was the right one.”

“Sometimes?” Giles protested.

“We couldn’t quite hang out here like we did in the city, but we didn’t put up walls again.” Buffy smiled at him softly, and he returned it. “By the time that dumb test came around… Giles risked himself to protect me from it. He got fired anyway, but that didn’t matter. They let him stay. And I… I knew for sure, that night, that I would’ve done anything to keep him here. I would have followed him to England, if I had to, and faced the Council directly. I loved him. I mean, I do love him. I’ll fight for him every day for the rest of my life.” She thought of Angel’s words returned to her, to always keep fighting. She glanced toward Joyce, startled by the wet emotion in her mom’s eyes, but continued anyway, “I’m glad you’re okay with this, but if you hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have mattered. When it comes to me and Giles, the only opinion that matters to me is Giles’.” Buffy took a breath, and looked back toward him. “If all I’ve got is a short life, then I wanna spend it with somebody who loves me as much as I love them.”

“And- and if you have a long life?” Giles murmured, sounding a little choked up, and Buffy rubbed his knuckles this time, as she gave him a smile.

“Then I’ll have a house and a dog and a bunch of little green-eyed book nerds running around the house calling me ‘mum’.”

His eyes slowly widened slightly, his mouth falling open; a look of wonder.

“Unless, I mean, if you don’t want- we could just have a house full of dogs, too.” Buffy reasoned nervously. He blinked, then closed his mouth.

“No one…” He swallowed and began again, “No one h-has ever… wanted children with me before.” He looked incredibly touched by the idea, regardless whether or not he ultimately agreed to it, and Buffy twisted to face him more fully, resting her free hand on his cheek.

“They didn’t even want dogs?” She asked teasingly pityingly, and the wetness in his eyes glinted with laughter. Buffy smiled and leaned in to give him a short kiss, but he immediately drew both arms around her and kissed her enthusiastically.

After a minute of not letting up, Joyce cleared her throat loudly, and warned,

“Alright, let’s not get started on that in my kitchen, huh?”

They pulled apart, embarrassed but smiling warmly, and Giles cleared his throat as he made a show of cleaning his glasses and swallowing down his excess of emotion.

“Yes, ehm, quite right. Let’s give that one a few more years, yes?”

“Now  _ there’s _ a timeline I can agree with.” Buffy nodded seriously with a grimace.

“A big part of me would prefer the two of you… keep this in a, um, courting level, for a while, but…” She gave Buffy a sad and proud look all at once. “I know you’re the Slayer and I know that means you don’t necessarily have the- the luxury of…”

“A while.” Buffy murmured gently, and Joyce nodded, thinning her lips for a moment as she settled her emotion and then took a deep breath. Buffy gave her a small sympathetic smile; of course it would never be easy discussing the fact that your one and only child has a statistically very short life-span.

“Can you explain it?” Joyce wondered, eyeing them both curiously, almost with that discerning eye that Buffy would see her use in the museum. “The Watcher, Slayer, thing. Can you explain it to me at all?”

“It is…” Giles paused as he looked toward Buffy. “Solely unique. Unlike any other sort of partnership I could name. And it is unique to the particular Watcher and Slayer pair, as well.” Buffy shifted to face him a little more fully, curious, and Joyce slowly began to put the groceries away as she listened intently. “Generically, Slayers and their Watchers are supposed to have a bond. This doesn’t always happen - I don’t believe you were with Merrick long enough for it to be borne, and Faith with her first Watcher… well… we all know Faith.” They all shared a wry look with one another. “As I’ve said before, a Watcher is meant to train their Slayer, guide her, teach her how to be successful in her calling. ...Being a Watcher is a calling, as well. Although I… rebelled for a time, I was taught how to be a Watcher from a young age, much like Buffy.”

She elbowed him and grinned at his mention of ‘rebellion’, and he gave her a brief warning look.

“While my position in Sunnydale was originally a Council decision, I do believe that- that, I was meant to be Buffy’s Watcher, and she my Slayer.” Giles admitted softly, and Buffy’s smile softened as well. “I was not expecting… any of this. I don’t think anyone in the Council was. Not what Sunnydale would bring, nor Buffy herself, nor the… thoughts and emotions she inspires within me.”

She wasn’t really thinking as she gently slid her hand over his thigh; caught up in the expression on his face.  _ Adoration. Vexation. Love. _

“I have always felt… extremely connected with you, even when I didn’t understand you whatsoever.” Giles’ words shifted toward Buffy directly, as they once again sort of forgot that they weren’t the only ones in the room. “I was told to be the one to teach you, but you are showing me something new about being a Slayer - and being a Watcher - every day. I was told that I should be in charge and order your patrols with great care, great study, great preparation… but I very quickly learned neither of us work best that way. We’re… partners, on the front line of a centuries-long battle that will continue to go on for centuries after our deaths. We learn, and we adapt, together. With each situation we face. I would say that there isn’t a handbook written for this, but, there is one. …It just…” He trailed off, and Buffy snorted.

“It sucks?” She said bluntly, and he grimaced and nodded in agreement. Then he suddenly looked toward Joyce, as if just remembering that she was there.

“You’re right,” He admitted to her quietly. “I do care for Buffy. I always have. I always will. But that isn’t just because I’m her Watcher.” Buffy squeezed the firm muscle beneath her hand, giving him a little smile when he glanced over to her. “It’s influenced our relationship, but it doesn’t control it. I’m simply- simply… amazed by this- this incredibly strong, and loving, and forgiving,  _ wonderful _ young woman, who- who for some reason, allows me to be in her life.  _ Wants  _ me to- to be in her life.” He focused back toward Buffy entirely, who at this point had a bit of a tear in her eye - not that she’d admit it. “She is strong, and powerful, and she does not need me - but she says she does, and that- ” He stopped suddenly, almost like he was choked up, and Buffy bit her lip as emotion swelled in her chest. His lopsided smile was just as sudden, and he shook his head a little. “I’m a purveyor of words, and she renders me speechless.”

Buffy had to swallow and gather herself for a second before she could tease him,

“That was a lot of words for a speechless man.” She rubbed her thumb against the fabric of his jeans, knowing that he could see the tears in her eyes.

“I also did say that you inspired me.” He noted, innocently. “Didn’t I?” They smiled at each other, and Buffy marveled at the way his eyes seemed to dance as he looked at her. No one ever looked at her quite like Giles looked at her.

And no one had definitely ever given a speech like  _ that _ about her, before.

“Geez, okay, after that I’d be a monster not to let you kiss him,” Joyce grumbled, waving her hand at them as she focused on putting the cold foods in the refrigerator.

Buffy did wait until her mom’s view was blocked by the opened fridge door, but then she grasped Giles’ sweater in both hands and yanked him against her as she kissed him deeply, parting her lips and using her tongue to tell him how much she loved him.

When she eventually pulled back and let him go, he looked a bit out of sorts, and she grinned proudly. Slayer powers be damned - it was the power she had over Giles that still gave her a heady feeling.

Or it could just be Giles, making her light-headed. He had a certain kind of power over her, too.

She licked her lips and gave him a bit of a cheeky look, before sliding to her feet off of her chair.

“You came over for training, right? I’ll go up to change, and meet you in the basement.” She told him brightly, and he was still blinking back into focus as she headed toward the stairs, giggling quietly to herself.

She wasn’t sure when or how her mother came around on the subject of Giles, but Buffy was glad she did. She’d been honest about loving Giles no matter what others thought, even her mom, but she was deeply glad her mom approved anyway. That made at least one part of her life a whole lot easier.

**— — —**

“Giles… my favorite Englishman… the best Watcher in the world…”

Giles sighed heavily, a pretend put-out expression on his face as he passed over the remaining burger patty toward Xander. The younger man made a noise of glee as he accepted it, and Buffy shared an amused look with Willow as she gathered her dishes and stood.

“Really, Xander, where do you put it all?” Buffy wondered teasingly.

“Food that tastes this good doesn’t have calories!” Xander exclaimed as he dug his fork into the beef. “That’s the law of eating dynamics!”

Buffy shook her head fondly as she reached over Giles’ shoulder for his empty plate, and he looked up at her in surprise.

“You cook, I wash, right?” She quipped lightly. His expression warmed, then, and he nodded as he smiled a little.

“That is the deal.”

Willow was eyeing them curiously, and Buffy pretended not to notice, though she didn’t linger too long in Giles’ space as much as she wanted to. Willow offered up her assistance and gathered the rest of the dishes, following Buffy into the kitchen.

“You and Giles have a deal?” Willow wondered lowly as Buffy began to fill the sink with soapy water.

“Huh?” Buffy immediately thought of their no smoochy rule, and their six-inch rule, and-

“...L.A.?” Willow's continued question didn't pull Buffy back into focus until she mentioned the city.

“L.A.?” Buffy repeated in confusion, before pointing toward one of the drawers to Willow's right. “Dish towels are in there.”

“You hang out here a lot now, huh?” Willow mused as she seemed surprised to actually find the towels where Buffy said they were.

“Well... you guys know the whole deal about the Cruciamentum…” Buffy mumbled uncomfortably, her eyes focused on the plate she was washing. “After all that we just… don’t take each other for granted, I guess.”

“Right.” Willow winced apologetically for bringing it up, but then she seemed appeased and smiled brightly. “So you've known for months that Giles could cook this good?” She pretended to whine a little, and Buffy relaxed as well, no longer feeling suspicion on her.

“Like I was gonna let Xander find out and have him chow down on everything for himself?” They both giggled fondly at their friend's never-ending appetite, and glanced back toward the living room where Xander was finishing his meal and Giles was smiling a little as he told a story too quietly for the girls to entirely hear.

“I like our Scooby nights.” Willow announced suddenly, which made Buffy feel all warm and happy. “With Giles no longer at the high school, and since he’s technically not your Watcher… you know, not getting the benefits I mean, I was worried that…” Willow trailed off.

“Benefits? What benefits?” Buffy tried not to think too hard about their training sessions that occasionally became smoochy sessions. They had some nice benefits, for sure…

“You know, getting paid?”

“Oh. Right.”

“Anyway, I was worried that we wouldn’t really see him as much anymore, or even that he might be forced back to England anyway, but I think we’re all hanging out now more than we ever did!” Willow brightened happily, and Buffy was pleased by the contentment on her face.

Oz was in and out of town constantly lately, with his band touring around California, and Buffy knew that Willow missed him when he was gone more than she admitted.

“And you’re here even more often than that!” Willow sounded almost impressed, in a way. “What does Wesley think of that?”

“Wesley?” Buffy frowned.

“Yeah, you know - your technical Watcher?” Willow raised her eyebrow, and for some reason Buffy felt like she was on edge of being caught out, again.

“Well, he’s… after the Ascension and everything, he’s agreed that Giles and I do make a good team… plus, Faith could really use a Watcher and everybody already knows Giles is a one-Slayer kinda guy,” Buffy shrugged as if that fact didn’t actually please her immensely. “So Wesley is mostly focusing on being Faith’s Watcher, now.”

“What does the Council think about that?” Willow wondered, raising both eyebrows in surprise.

“I… I’m not sure they know,” Buffy admitted, still somewhat curious about that. It was obvious that Wesley was fudging his reports to the head-honchos, in some way. Not that she cared about the Council themselves that much, but so long as they kept away from Giles…

“Wow,” Willow apparently followed along with Buffy’s thoughts. “Who knew  _ Wesley _ would end up being sort of… cool?”

“Cool?” Buffy raised her eyebrow as she paused scrubbing the final dish in their stack. “Now that’s a stretch.”

**— — —**

Buffy entered the house quietly, tugging Giles by the hand after her and closing the door before he could voice his protest. He looked mildly unsure, but his hand stayed firmly wrapped around hers.

“Oh! Hello, Buffy.” Joyce greeted them in surprise, fixing her earring as she came down the hall from the kitchen. “I’ve just left you a note on the fridge - I’m going out, I’ll be late, don’t worry, I’m wearing my cross necklace, and I have a stake,” She sent her daughter a wink as she slipped by them, snagging her jacket off the end of the bannister. “Mr. Giles…” Her greeting toward him was more hesitant, carefully polite, and his smile in response was somewhat shaky.

“Ms.- uh, Mrs. Summers- um… Joyce.” He glanced away while Joyce stared at him for a lingering moment, and his thumb rubbed nervously against Buffy’s knuckles. Buffy wasn’t sure why, but he seemed even more awkward around her  _ after _ their come-to-heart-talk than he had been before it.

“Movie night?” Joyce asked Buffy pleasantly, as if the whole gang were here with popcorn, and Buffy smiled shyly at Giles.

“Yeah, we were thinkin’ so.”

“Good, good.” Joyce nodded approvingly, but still hesitated at the door. “I’ll be late,” Joyce said again, and Buffy nodded.

“You said.” She quickly gave her mom a warning look, hopefully one that Giles didn’t notice. He was kind of busy not looking at either of them, so she figured she was safe.

“Well… have fun,” Joyce glanced over them one last time and then opened the door, though seemed to remember something just as she stepped across the threshold. “No boys upstairs, Buffy.” She warned seriously, and Buffy gaped at her, blushing.

“Mom! It’s  _ Giles _ !” She protested, embarrassed. “He’s been upstairs before, lots of times!”

“This is different.” Joyce raised her eyebrow. “My house, my rules. Movies are not Slayer duties, they are dates. Ergo, date rules.”

“Fine.” Buffy grumbled, scuffing her feet in embarrassment, and Joyce ducked in close to quickly kiss her daughter on the cheek before hurrying out of the house with a definite skip in her step.

“This is… very odd.” Giles admitted hesitantly as they both stared at the closed front door.

“Yeah.” Buffy admitted. Then, she looked up at him. “Movie night is odd?”

“No,” He promised, his expression softening as he smiled down at her. “I like movie nights.”

“Me, too.” She quirked a grin, and tugged him toward the living room. “Especially when it’s just us.”

“B-before we start the film, I wanted to talk to you about something…” Giles began, and she kicked her shoes off before sitting cross-legged on the couch and facing him, more slow to take his seat than she had been.

“What’s up?” She asked, sobering a little bit when she noticed his expression. “Uh-oh. You’ve got your serious face on.”

“It’s nothing bad,” He assured her, and then mumbled, “at least I hope not.” After pausing a moment, he began, “Do you recall the magic shop on Maple Court?”

“Yeah?” Buffy frowned a little. “I think so. Wasn’t there a vampire attack there a while back?” He nodded.

“I’ve, ehm, decided to buy it.” He told her, and she blinked at him. “The owner has disappeared and the shop is sitting full of books and relics and- well, I believe it’s a place that could be useful for us.” He brightened as he took his glasses off and leaned over to set them on the coffee table. “The profit margins on a shop like that in Sunnydale are quite high. Low overhead, plenty of out-of-state orders, international - ”

“Giles, isn’t that place a deathtrap?” She raised her eyebrow at him. “You’re telling me  _ at least _ two of the previous owners have been killed or otherwise disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and you want to own it next?” Then, she snorted. “Of course you do.”

“Ah, but unlike those previous owners,  _ I  _ know how to defend myself. And I’ve got my own Slayer to… dissuade unwelcome guests.” Giles returned with a lightly mocking raised eyebrow of his own, and winked at her.

“Unless it’s against a concussion.” Buffy pointed out.

“The death rate keeps the rent down, at the very least.” He ignored that comment. “The location is perfect; right downtown, not far from my home - and there’s a back room that could be perfect for training. We wouldn’t need to rent out that gymnastics building any longer, or use your mother’s basement.”

“I guess since you don’t have a high school to go back to work at…” Buffy mused slowly, considering. The prospect of a training room all their own was a pretty nice one. In the rental, they couldn’t do anything too Slayer-y or they’d draw attention, and here at the house… well, her mom always ended up being around, on training days, and they always had to be on their best behavior. And they were… usually. “Are you sure about this? I know you’ve wanted to, but have you ever actually  _ run _ a store before?”

“I was a librarian for years,” He reasoned, snarking a little, “This is exactly the same, except people pay for the things they don’t return. It’ll give me focus, help increase my resources, and prevent you lot from tramping all over my flat at all hours.” He made a grouchy face at that, but Buffy grinned and nudged him. He wasn’t really all that bothered by the Scoobies using his place as hangout central - mostly, it was that he was almost always stuck with the cleanup.

“What, your Slayer isn’t enough to focus on, for ya?” She teased, leaning toward him a little, and he smiled slowly.

“And what then would I do with myself while you’re spending your day in classes in the fall?” He noted, and she pretended to mull over that.

“Daydream about your Slayer?” She figured, making him chuckle, and she closed the distance between them to nuzzle his cheek and brush her lips against the edge of his smile. He leaned into the affection, his hand sliding forward over her knee, but let her keep the moment relatively chaste and pull back again.

Buffy liked that about Giles. Affection with him felt simple, and easy, and even the little things filled her with a sense of peace she wasn’t sure she could really describe.

“Want some popcorn? Anything to drink? We’ve still got some lemonade left.” She asked as she cleared her head of daydreamy thoughts.

“Ooh, yes please.” He brightened at that; she’d learned to mix up a great lemonade recipe earlier in the summer that all the Scoobies seemed to love.

“You pick the movie, then,” Buffy patted his chest before getting up from the couch, “and I’ll grab the munchies.”

When she returned to the living room with two glasses and a big bowl of popcorn carefully balanced in her hands, he had removed his shoes and his sweater, lounging along the couch in his jeans and t-shirt. Buffy eyed him appreciatively as she set her armload on the coffee table, but raised her eyebrow coyly when he patted the space on the cushion in front of him.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s gonna be more smoochies going on than movie watching?” She squinted suspiciously at his innocent expression, and then he smiled, slow and wide.

“Isn’t that why you like our movie nights,  _ especially _ ?” He returned, and she pursed her lips but couldn’t completely hide her amusement, inwardly scolding her skipping heart to pull it together before he found out she was already totally wrapped around his finger. She purposely flounced onto the couch a bit heavily as she joined him. He grunted at the impact of her back against his front, but curled his arm around her waist and held her close as she settled in comfortably.

She rested her hand over his, trailing her fingertips against his knuckles in random patterns, watching the screen as the opening credits played.  _ The Maltese Falcon _ \- a good choice, she’d never turn down a good Bogart - but it was also a movie they both knew well, so that gave away his plans pretty obviously even if his coy expression earlier hadn’t.

“I think you’re gonna be great with that shop,” Buffy hummed, just enjoying his nearness and his warmth and the feeling of being nestled against his large frame. “I can’t wait to see what you do to it. ...You know, you should ask Xander to help out with any building stuff you might do. He’s wanting to join the construction company, I think, and I’ve seen some of the stuff he’s been doing around his own house - he’s pretty good.”

“Really?” Giles wondered in pleasant surprise. “I think I shall, then.” He brushed her hair behind her ear and pressed a lingering kiss against her head. “Thank you.” He murmured, and she could hear the sincerity in his tone. He’d been nervous about discussing the magic store at first, but her encouragement had been honest and that seemed to have alleviated those nerves.

They watched the movie in contented silence for a few minutes, until a thought came to Buffy.

“We should see what kind of protection spells Willow can do, give that place a boost. She’s getting pretty good with the whole Wicca thing.” She felt Giles nod, and then he said,

“She is. I’m wondering if perhaps I should find her a, um, mentor. To help guide her. Magic is a beautiful thing, if treated with the proper respect…”

“You couldn’t mentor her?” Buffy twisted just a little bit so she could look at him more easily. “I’ve seen you do magic before; you seem natural with it. Plus, you know, your whole ‘rebellion stage’...”

“I believe that rebellion stage is exactly why I shouldn’t,” Giles admitted, his tone unsure. “I’m the poster-child for ‘How Not To Use Magicks’.”

“But you’ve learned,” Buffy pointed out, and he shook his head.

“It’s an addiction, Buffy.” He explained softly. “What little I do, to help you, is always with careful consideration and control. If I start using magic more often, even just to teach someone, I… I would open myself up to the temptation of darkness that I’ve already had a taste of. It would be very difficult to deny. I would rather simply not open that door.” Buffy nodded in understanding.

“Do you know anyone? Who could help teach Willow? Someone we can trust?” She wondered, and his expression softened and he nodded.

“I have some contacts. If they can’t help, directly, I believe they can direct me toward someone who can.” She rubbed his fingers again, then tucked hers into the spaces between, and he curled his fist to hold on to her. “In the meantime, I’m sure a few protection spells wouldn’t hurt anyone.” He was appreciative of the idea, and Buffy smiled as she snuggled tighter against him and once more focused on the movie.

  
They managed to watch another ten minutes before the leisurely brushing of fingers and occasional nuzzling got too distracting, and of course, Giles was right, this was exactly why Buffy liked their movie nights  _ especially _ .


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer, continued

“Oh my God… look at this place.”

Buffy stepped forward slowly as she took in the transformed space. What was once a messy and fairly grungy storage was now what would be any Slayer’s wet dream. There was plenty of room for sparring with the longer weapons like swords and quarterstaffs, a heavyweight punching bag, spin bike, and even her very own pommel horse.

“Thank you,” She murmured earnestly as Giles followed her in to stand next to her. “Thank you, so much,”

“Well, it’s just a start,” Giles shyly tugged his glasses off and then the protective mask that had been around his neck. “You need a proper space to train, so- ”

“I love it.” Buffy insisted, giving him a smile and not letting him hide from expressing emotion this time, and he returned her smile softly. “This must’ve been so much work.” She stepped further into the room, taking note of the runes painted on the floor and walls. She didn’t recognize them, not that she likely would have either way, but she guessed they were for focusing or protection. Or maybe both. “I could’ve helped lug some of this in here,” She murmured, turning back toward him for a moment, and his pleasure was obvious in his eyes.

“That would’ve ruined the point of it being a surprise,” He replied quietly, still shy, and Buffy beamed at him.

“I’m the dummy man!” Xander blurted suddenly, excitedly, reminding Buffy that he was in the room as well, as he ran up toward the straw-stuffed dummy that stood near the bike. “I mean, I helped. I made the dummy - the thing that you hit that doesn’t hit back - that, uh, I made.” He grinned and Buffy did too.

“It’s great.” She assured him, her heart overwhelmed with love for the both of them. “It’s all great.” She met Giles’ eyes again.

“Well, you’ve earned it. Truly.” He replied softly as he put his glasses back on. He propped his hand on his waist as he smiled at her, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and hug him tightly. Or kiss him senseless. Xander was here though, so she managed to refrain.

“Thank you, guys, so much. You’re like my fairy godmother and Santa Claus and Q all wrapped up into one.” They sort of just smiled at her, obviously lost, and she added, “Q from Bond, not Star Trek.” Xander nodded like he got it, amused by her moment of nerdiness, and she looked at Giles again. He still had that warm, happy light in his eyes. “I’m gonna go change.” Buffy announced, leaving before she said to hell with Xander’s presence and thanked Giles the way she really wanted to.

**... ... ...**

When Buffy returned to the training room, Giles was standing alone, carefully arranging a few crystals on the little countertop in the corner. He’d removed his flannel shirt and draped it over the spin bike, and she approached him with a happy skip in her step as she took the opportunity to check him out in his henley and jeans.

“These are for focusing,” He explained of the crystals as he heard her approach, and when she touched her fingers against his back, his tone was wry as he added, “I imagine you’ll need assistance in that regard.”

“What?” Buffy pouted as she sidled next to him, peering at the crystals as she let her hand trail around his waist. “I can focus.” Her thumb played with the soft material of his shirt, and she saw his eyebrow quirk dubiously.

“Oh?”

“I just wanna thank you for the most awesomest training room ever, before we get started.” She reasoned innocently, and he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling for a moment.

“You have thanked me,” He reminded her, though he had a small smile on his face as he met her gaze again. “And I appreciate it. I was happy to do this for you.”

“I haven’t thanked you _enough_ ,” Buffy informed him, gripping her fingers around his waist to guide him to face her, stretching up on her bare toes so that her chest pressed against his.

He smelled like wood stain and saw dust, but it was a surprisingly nice compliment to the usual Giles-y smells, and the twinkling in his eyes was nice too. He kept his hands at his sides, but he didn’t lean away from her. He looked down at her as she lifted her head up, their noses mere centimeters apart, and he still didn’t actively give in to her yet either.

She danced her fingers up his bare forearms, and when she reached the soft shirt sleeves pushed up at his elbows, she gripped onto him a bit more firmly. His mouth twitched into a smile before he could dip in further to hide it by kissing her.

Either way, he was kissing her now, so hiding his pleasure was a moot point, and Buffy smiled against his mouth as she slid her hands up further over his shoulders, carding her fingers together behind his neck. One of his hands held her warmly at the waist and the other he cupped against the side of her face, his thumb near where their mouths met.

As coy and reserved as he’d been acting a moment ago, he kissed her soundly, indulgently. His tongue swept between her lips and made its home inside her mouth, hot and insistent. Focused. He knew _exactly_ how he wanted to kiss her, and he was doing so without reservation.

“Mmm,” She couldn’t moan his name, as firmly connected as they were, but she let him feel her pleasure in the vibrations of her voice through her throat and her chest. He tilted his head and kissed her even more deeply, his hand sliding down around the curve of her ass and squeezing, tugging her hips against his.

She sucked in a breath of surprise through her nose, feeling the bulge of arousal in his jeans. He’d been playing unaffected so well; she certainly hadn’t expected _that_. She pushed her fingers up a little into his hair, gripping the thick waves and holding him close, not intent on this kissing ending anytime soon.

Giles shifted his feet and guided her to turn until her back was against the countertop, and then he gripped her hips with both hands and hoisted her up onto it, his mouth still dancing against hers like he couldn’t get enough of her.

The counter was too high for anything _too_ intimate, but she wrapped her legs around his upper torso anyway and he slid his hands slowly down her thighs, definitely appreciative. His lips and tongue gentled a bit, though he continued to kiss her sensuously, his hands finding the bare skin of her thighs beneath the edge of her shorts.

He slowly brushed his thumbs against her skin, in time with their kissing, and she tightened her legs around him more as arousal sparked through her a little more sharply than just the warm flame he’d been building up with his smooching.

“Buffy!” He tilted his head back suddenly with a sharp gasp of air, his fingers gripping her thighs for a moment, and she immediately loosened her hold a bit.

“Sorry.” She apologized meekly, swallowing as she tried to get her bearings. She felt flushed, her panties were most definitely damp, and her mouth was tender in a way that delighted her.

He caught his breath for a moment, and where her hands rested Buffy gently rubbed her fingers against his scalp and through his hair. His lips and his cheeks were red, too, and he was panting quietly.

Of course, a part of that might’ve been her fault for half squeezing the life out of him with her thighs.

“Bloody hell,” He murmured brokenly, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “To have these wrapped around my head…” He squeezed her thighs again, more of a massaging motion, and Buffy blurted out a half chuckle in surprise.

“You aren’t afraid I’ll kill you?” She joked, flushing even more deeply as she couldn’t help but picture him kneeling down right now and-

“Ah, but what a way to go.” Giles quipped as he straightened his head, grinning boyishly, and she laughed again in amusement this time. Lovingly, she smoothed down his mussed hair, and then cradled his cheeks in her palms, rubbing her thumbs against the corners of his mouth.

“I love you, and I love our room.” She whispered honestly.

“I love you, too.” He replied just as quietly, and just as earnest. “Though this is your room.”

“You’re my Watcher,” She pointed out. “My ‘sensei’, more or less. That makes it your room too.”

“Well, this is _mostly_ yours.” He amended. He shifted his hands back to her waist, somehow a more chaste location than her thighs though the simple size of his hands put his thumbs quite close to the curve of her breasts. “I want you to know that this is a place you can come to, anytime. Even to get away from me, if you need to.”

“Why would I ever want to be _away_ from you?” She furrowed her brow a little. “I’m doing my damndest to be _with_ you.” He laughed at that, clear and honest though he cut the sound off before he drew attention from the others in the other part of the building.

“We still argue,” He reminded her. “We still need our space sometimes.”

She nodded in admittance of that, and then rubbed her thumbs against his cheekbones again before kissing him softly. After a moment, she tried to deepen it, but he gently pushed her back a little, rubbing his fingers soothingly against her sides as she slid her hands to rest on his shoulders.

“No more smoochies?” She pouted, and he groaned softly as he leaned in again and nipped at her bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

“You must stop doing that,” He complained, almost verging on whining, as he straightened again.

“C’mon, Giles, we’ve fondled before,” She reasoned, shifting her hands closer to his neck to dance them against his skin. He shivered, his own hands tightening against her.

“That’s my point, Buffy… I want it to be perfect for you. The comfort of a bed, of total solitude, of time to, well, take our time…” Buffy shivered at that. “I want to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you in the morning.”

“Giles! That’s sweet!” She crooned, smiling widely.

“You sound surprised that I can be sweet.” He was the one almost pouting, now.

“Well, no, of course not - I mean, I know you can be sweet - I just… that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She admitted, and his expression softened.

He lifted a hand to brush his fingers through her hair, careful of not undoing her messy bun as he curled a loose strand behind her ear. She leaned her cheek into his palm, nuzzling it a little, as they quietly smiled at one another for a moment.

Eventually, she slid her hands down to his shoulders again and straightened her back, sitting up and putting a little more space between their faces lest they start making out again. (Not that she would mind, at all, but she could hear the faint laughter of Xander and Willow in the shop and she was reminded that the training room door was still wide open for anyone to just stroll in). She gingerly unwrapped her legs from around him, giving him room to move back as well.

“And I guess we need to actually do some training now, too.” She sighed, knowing that she wasn’t going to get any more smoochies certainly of that quality in a while. He was too busy organizing and preparing his shop, and with all the Scoobies helping out on that front, the two of them rarely had any real alone time anymore.

“Training would be good.” He said with an awkward bluntness that didn’t match his usual verboseness, and Buffy smirked as he stepped away from her and the counter and cleared his throat, trying to rearrange his jeans without making a big deal out of it.

Buffy glanced toward the crystals to her right, still miraculously precariously balanced on end against one another, and slid off the counter onto the floor.

“Where do ya want me?” She announced, happily smooched and in go-mode now.

“Hmm?” He replied, his tone distracted, and when Buffy looked at him his eyes seemed a little distant.

“Where do you want me for _training_ , Giles.” She clarified wryly, though internally she was whooping for joy.

She’d already taken note of the places in this room she wanted him to take her against, once they reached that point together… the places she wanted to take _him_ against, too.

She certainly couldn’t _really_ fault him for thinking about it. Still, his flush was adorable and exciting as he stammered for a moment before managing to point her toward the center of the padded mats.

“Sit in the lotus position, please,” He told her, as he toed his boots and socks off before joining her, mirroring her seated position. He seemed much more in Watcher mode as he said, “We’ll begin simply, for the time being. Eventually, I’d like to work your way up to more and more challenging positions, but- ”

“Mmm, will bondage fun be involved in the future?” Buffy couldn’t help but purr, and he choked to an immediate halt, staring at her as if he were both appalled and aroused in equal measures.

“ _Rules_ , Buffy.” He managed to growl out, and she pointedly looked at the space on the mats between them, and the fact that their bent knees almost touched. With a huff, he shifted back on his butt until there was six inches between them, and then he gave her a warning look. “Satisfied?”

She only smiled slowly, and he groaned in annoyance and looked at the ceiling again for a moment.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay. Focused.” She promised him, resituating herself and resting her palms lightly atop her knees, her spine straight and relaxed.

“ _Thank you_.” He snarked. After a minute, he began to speak in a gentle and calm tone, “Close your eyes. Breathe, for a moment. In… and out… in… and out. That’s it. Tune out everything but my voice, my breath. You don’t hear the cars on the street outside. You don’t hear our friends in the other room. You don’t hear the a/c humming. All you hear is me, speaking. Breathing. Your own heartbeat. Your breath.”

Purposely, he breathed a little noisier than normal, though with her Slayer hearing she would have been able to pick up on it easily enough anyway. It helped to block out all the other noises though, and she smiled a tiny bit to herself, listening to his heartbeat as well. His pulse was still a tiny bit fast, but it was slowing as he did the exercise with her, and in no time at all she found her own heartbeat matching his.

“Good.” He praised warmly. “Continue to breathe with me. There is nothing, but us. We are the center….”

**— — —**

“You look... enormously pleased with yourself.” Buffy noted slowly, both suspicious and amused.

“Do I?” Giles replied cheekily, his eyes on the dart gun he was polishing as if it took his entire focus. “Just thinking of our patrol last night.”

“You mean the failed werewolf hunt?” Buffy raised her eyebrow.

“It wasn't a total failure…” Giles mused slowly, his hand with the rag pausing for a moment. “I did make some very... revealing discoveries.”

Buffy blushed, indignant now.

“Lovers' Lane isn't only for high schoolers?” She quipped back, trying to embarrass him before her own embarrassment was revealed. Giles merely smiled that close-lipped, slow smile that always made her want to kiss it off his face.

“I never knew a human being could make that kind of noise,” Giles teased, lowering his voice into a husky drawl that admittedly had her panties wet in seconds.

“W-well,” She stammered, still indignant, “You just wait, mister. We've got another night of hunting in front of us a-and soon enough I'll have _you_ making noises no human being has made before.” She hesitated. “In a good way, I mean.” She grimaced. “That sounded way more violent than I meant it to.”

Nonetheless, his eyes were dark and intent, anticipatory, and Buffy mentally floundered. Now she was gonna have to think up something good to do to him. Would it be too weird to ask Faith for some tips? Would Faith even know? She was obviously more into the end results, and how the situation suited herself... maybe Willow would know. Willow read. Buffy'd also feel _way_ more comfortable talking to Willow about this sort of thing, than Faith... the only thing was, how to ask without revealing to Willow who she was asking _for_....

“I- I need to head back home; Mom wants me to go grocery shopping with her so ‘she buys the right stuff’.” Buffy was only halfway using the excuse; her mom really had asked her to join her this afternoon. “I think she just wants me there to carry all the heavy bags.”

Giles laughed lightly at that, and nodded as he returned most of his focus toward the weapon in his hands.

“I’ll pick you up at the house then, for patrol tonight?” He offered, and she nodded.

“See ya then.”

Willow was still in the main part of the shop when Buffy walked through, and she touched her arm to get her attention.

“Walk home with me? I have something I want to talk to you about…” Buffy asked hesitantly, and Willow furrowed her brow curiously but nodded.

“Sure.” She scooped up her bag and said goodbye to Anya, who had proved to be a huge help with all the organization and indexing with the shop.

“If I find the monkey head near the Styx water one more time, other people’s heads will be rolling!” Anya warned them as they headed out the door, and the other two girls shared a rueful look.

She’d been a surprising addition to the gang, and quite often an uncomfortable one, but her usefulness couldn’t be denied. Plus, she could be funny… sometimes… and it seemed she might actually be starting to really grow on Xander, too.

“Watcha wanna talk about?” Willow wondered as they strolled along the sidewalk casually, half-people watching and half-window shopping. It was a great day for a walk, which was surprising this late in the summer; usually the heat was unbearable by now.

At least it meant less vamps to deal with. Unfortunately, werewolves are beholden only to the moon, so tonight meant serious patrol, regardless of the summer ‘chill time’.

“Beholden to the moon?” Buffy muttered to herself. “I gotta stop hanging out with Giles so much.”

“What was that?” Willow asked. “Something up with Giles?”

“Huh?” Buffy blanched slightly. “No. What? Why?”

“Cause… you said his name?” Willow gave her an odd look. “You look a little flushed. You aren’t going into heat stroke are you? How much water have you had today? I know the breeze makes it feel pretty nice out right now but it’s still the dead of summer and,”

“Willow, I’m fine.” Buffy assured her, mentally noting ‘the dead of summer’ for possible later pun use. “I have a question…” She trailed off as she considered.

Last night, to her complete surprise - and definite delight - Giles had cornered her against a tree and fitted his hand down her pants to finger her while they made out. It’d been so unexpected that she’d had an orgasm pretty quickly, and by the time she was back on Earth and wrapping her mind around it all, he had already pulled himself back together and was back in Watcher mode, the gun propped in his elbow as he patiently waited for her to steady herself.

He’d apologized, embarrassed for getting carried away, but she’d assured him she hadn’t minded in the slightest. Even still, he wouldn’t let her return the favor, and wouldn’t even come within six feet of her again for the rest of the night (save for when they returned to the car to head back home).

“You and Oz… you’ve slept together, right?” She asked, and Willow’s eyes widened in surprise before a flush quickly spread over her face.

“We- we- why…?” She stammered, glancing around to make sure none of the other pedestrians were close enough to them to overhear their conversation.

“Have you done other stuff?”

“ _Other stuff?_ ” Willow repeated incredulously.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded, looking ahead and doing her best to be nonchalant as she continued, “like, before ya rounded the bases - was there first? Or third? Or was it just, up to bat and immediate home run?”

“I… had no idea you were such a baseball fan.” Willow replied lightly, overwhelmed.

“You know what I mean…” Buffy lowered her voice, embarrassed, and then hesitated. “Don’t you?”

“I read.” Willow huffed defensively, and then blushed all over again.

“Exactly!” Buffy nodded hopefully. “That’s why I wanted to ask you, and not like, Faith or somebody… I think Cordelia would just laugh at me.” Willow nodded sagely at that.

“And get pissy for you calling and interrupting her Jamaican cruise vacation or wherever it is they went this year.” Willow hesitated, then, and frowned. “Ask me what, exactly?”

“About like… what guys like.”

“What guys _like_?” Willow looked at her like she was crazy. “You were with Angel.”

“Just the once.” Buffy reminded her, a bit defensive as well. “And you know how that went… Anyway, we hadn’t really done much before that… lots of smoochies, of course, but that night it was just sort of about the big shebang, you know?”

Willow let that comment settle for a moment, before asking carefully,

“So you’re saying there wasn’t much, um… f-foreplay?”

“Willow!” Buffy raised her eyebrow in amazement, and _then_ Willow blushed again. Taking it easy on her friend, Buffy shrugged and nodded, turning her gaze away again. “Don’t get me wrong, it was… nice. In the moment, anyway, it was nice. He was gentle - super gentle, actually. Course, the afterward pretty much ruined the whole thing anyway…”

“Why… why do you want to know about this stuff?” Willow wondered, her eyes brightening a little as she asked, “Is there a guy?”

“N- no…” Buffy grimaced. “I just, um, don’t wanna go into college like… not knowing stuff.”

“So you wanna know what guys like,” Willow mused slowly as they left Main Street and turned onto the road that would lead them to Revello Drive.

“I don’t want to make you feel awkward talking about Oz,” Buffy hurriedly clarified. “I just mean, guys in general. Physically. I mean, there are certain things _I_ like after all.”

“What do you think I read?!” Willow laughed, but Buffy gave her a serious look.

“Everything.”

Willow's laugh died down, and she nodded, conceding the point.

“True.” She took a breath, and sighed it out heavily. “Okay, let’s finish this conversation once we’re in your room, okay? I’d rather not be talking about- about… um, guy parts, in the middle of the street.”

Buffy nodded earnestly in agreement, and they changed the topic for the time being, discussing the mystery werewolf that she and Giles were trying to capture.

**... ... ...**

“Another bust.” Giles grumbled as he set the tranquilizer gun in the backseat and closed the door, opening the driver’s side and sliding in as Buffy mirrored him on the passenger side.

“Another?” Buffy repeated, not entirely focused, her mind already four steps ahead. “That’s not what you said yesterday!”

“Concerning our task of finding this new mysterious werewolf before it eats up half the town - yes, I would say that has been a bust.” He drawled, eyeing her sideways for a moment as he settled in his seat and put the key in the ignition.

“Well, we’ve a couple more hours until moon-set,” Buffy reasoned, vaguely gesturing toward the edge of the overlook in front of them. “We could wait it out.”

“It is not high on my list of desires to sit in a car surrounded by other cars full of randy teenagers fumbling about in an attempt at what they believe to be romance.” Giles snarked, glancing toward the car parked a little ways off to their right.

As they’d passed it heading back to the Citroen, they had noticed the steamed up windows and the occasional sounds of hesitant pleasure emanating from within. It had been a stark reminder of Buffy’s plan for the evening, but it had obviously only made Giles uncomfortable.

“Oh, sitting in the general privacy of the car chatting about our day is too much for the sensible Englishman, but making out with me against a tree in the middle of the woods is perfectly alright?” Buffy huffed back sassily, and his eyes sparkled with the memory of their previous night of ‘hunting’.

“Oh, that was more than perfectly alright.” He grinned at her for a moment, but then did a double-take at her expression and his smile faltered. “What are you- ”

She could see the fear in his eyes, the fear and the tiny bit of eager curiosity, and that spurred her on with more confidence:

“I told you that there would be payback for yesterday.” She reminded him, taking advantage of the fact that the seats were butted up right next to one another and sliding closer until her hip pressed against his. She slipped one hand over his thigh, relatively innocent, and reached over with her other hand to snag the keys from the ignition and toss them onto the dashboard.

“Buffy,” Giles frowned, putting on his Watcher face. “You know the rules on patrol.”

“Oh, so you can break them, but I can’t?” She pointed out, once more referring to last night, and his cheeks blushed red in that adorable way she enjoyed. “Besides, you’ve basically announced that patrol is over. _I’m_ the one that suggested we wait it out a little longer.” She squeezed his knee a little bit, and he jumped.

“Buffy,” He hissed, glancing over toward the left side, but no one was parked on that side of the car right now. “This is less _private_ than a tree in the middle of the woods.”

“Well,” She mused, slowly leaning closer until her nose touched his jaw. He didn’t lean away from her, but he didn’t lean into the touch other. She nuzzled him gently. “Maybe they _should_ see. We can show them what real romance looks like.”

“If we’re going to stay here, we should- ” He paused as she lightly kissed his jaw, leisurely working her way back toward the soft skin below his ear. “We should… keep a watch… for the, um…” She nibbled on his earlobe gently, feeling the way his thigh tensed beneath her hands, but kept them still for now.

“The werewolf?” She finished for him, making sure her lips continued to brush his ear as she spoke, and he shivered a little.

“Hmmm?” He sounded distracted, and she smiled to herself, lightly scraping her teeth against the lobe again before kissing her way down the side of his neck. She was grateful for the thin sweater he’d decided to wear today, the low collar of which gave her plenty of skin to work with, and she kept her lips and her teeth gentle as she kissed her way down to the hem and then across to the hollow of his throat. “Buffy,” He protested, but he leaned his head back against the seat and his arm snaked between her and the cushion to rest against her back.

“You’re the Watcher,” She purred, “So keep watch.”

She found his pulse point and focused there for a while, taking her time to work a hickey there, sliding one of her palms up his leg and across his stomach, until she reached his chest. His heart was thumping harder already, and she couldn’t help smiling again. She shifted her hand until her thumb found his nipple through his shirt, and she slowly rubbed across it, using her nail to make it stiffen.

Giles breathed in sharply through his nose, the sound relatively quiet, but she could hear it clearly in the otherwise silence of the car. She leaned back a little bit to look at him, and could see the puckered bump through his shirt. She kissed his chin, teasingly biting it for a second, making him turn toward her with a curious expression. She quirked a smile of approval and moved her hand to his other nipple, giving it equal attention as she covered his mouth with her own.

Giles hummed warmly against her, following her lead and keeping the kiss warm and slow even as his body shifted a little against the seat. Her other hand, still resting on his thigh up to this point, casually slid over atop his lap, letting her fingers curl relaxed over the bulge in his jeans. He jumped again, releasing a startled breath as their mouths parted, and Buffy watched his face as she slowly squeezed him.

The color of his eyes darkened a bit, and when she scraped her nail over the fabric of his jeans, his lips parted. He didn’t say anything else however, simply held her gaze as she slowly massaged him harder.

She raised her eyebrow as she realized she could feel him rather well-defined through those trousers.

“You’re not wearing any underwear, are you?” She figured, not really a question, and his cheeks flushed a little again.

“Not out of- ” He swallowed, and blinked, and continued, “I didn’t expect… I just don’t like to wear them with jeans very often.”

“So…” She lifted her other eyebrow to join the first. “Whenever you’re wearing jeans, you’re commando-Giles?”

“Not… every time.” He replied, glancing away from her for a moment, embarrassed. “But usually, ehm, yes.”

“Mm, good to know.” Buffy hummed, smiling, and he swallowed again as he stared at her, his cock twitching within its confinement.

As she continued to press her hand against him, his breathing began to deepen, and she rested the pads of her other fingers against the side of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. He tilted his head slightly into her palm, his eyes drifting closed, and pushed his hips up against her other hand just a little.

“Do I still drive you mad, Giles?” She whispered, and he groaned softly.

“Terribly.”

She shifted her hand to squeeze his thigh again, stroking it for a moment, before pressing her thumb down firmly against the inner curve where his leg met his pelvis. His breathing stuttered again, and she returned her mouth to his neck, covering all that she could reach with those leisurely kisses even as her fingers reached the button of his jeans and slowly pried it open.

She kissed his mouth as she drew the zipper down, and pushed away one side, tucking her fingers beneath it to trail her nails along his abdomen toward his hip bone.

He tensed beneath her, again, and she felt his hand grip the back of her shirt. He tilted his chin up as he breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Buffy, th-that’s, that’s quite enough,” He didn’t sound very sure of that, though.

“I want to touch you.” Buffy told him, kissing the particularly red spot on his neck. She scraped her teeth against the tender skin, a bit harder than before, and he whined quietly. “Please, may I?”

“Bloody hell.” He murmured, his fingers rubbing absentmindedly against her back. “Yes,” He sighed, not taking very long to think about it before giving in, “Yes. Yes.”

She continued to scratch her nails lightly against his skin, letting her touch meander closer and then through the thick patch of curls at the base of his cock. She was briefly surprised, though she’d been expecting it; she had hair, after all, and Willow had advised her that not all men were as bare as Angel had been.

Giles let out a tiny moan as Buffy tugged gently on the hairs, and she decided she liked this. The heat of his cock so near to her knuckles was enticing, however, and she couldn’t resist reaching further to find where it lay tucked against his left thigh.

They both sucked in a breath when she touched him, sliding her fingers down his length until she could curl her palm around him. He grunted a little, his muscles tensing again, and Buffy marveled at the sheer heat of him.

“You’re so hot,” She murmured in wonder, and his fingers tucked up beneath the hem of her shirt, touching her bare back as he continued his slow stroking. Curious, she lightly touched her fingers all over him, blindly feeling out his length and width and the shape of the tip. She glanced up from the movement beneath his jeans, giving him a silent question as she felt the way his skin shifted beneath her fingers.

“I w-w-was not fully, uh, circumcised as a baby,” He explained, almost panting now, his eyes wide and dark as he stared at her with his mouth half open.

“Oh, okay,” She accepted that, having been told by Willow about that too. Well, she’d already known about circumcisions and stuff, but she hadn’t really known many details. She still didn’t know a whole lot. “Can I… can I see?” Right now, other than the beginnings of the patch of curls peeking out against the zipper, he was still mostly hidden within his jeans.

“Be- be careful,” He advised, resting his palm against her back as he helpfully reached his other hand down to pull the waist of the jeans up before lowering it further. He shifted his hips a bit and Buffy followed his guidance with the other side of his jeans, pushing them halfway down his thighs without letting them rub right against his arousal. “That’s it,” He sighed, rather happily she thought, as they both looked at her other hand still resting on top of his length.

She moved her hand off of his cock, and it rose up almost against his stomach.

She blurted out a laugh, and his fingers pressed against her back, and she immediately swallowed down her amusement.

“I’m sorry,” She looked back toward his face so he could see her earnestness. “It’s not - you’re lovely - it’s just…” She glanced back down again, and reached out with her finger to tug his length down a bit, watching it bounce back up.

“Men are a bit ridiculous, aren’t they?” He mused, and when she looked to his face again, he was smiling ruefully.

“Last time, I… well, Angel and I were kinda more about the end result and not so much… discovery.” She paused for a long moment, and he supportively rubbed his hand against her back. “I was fine with that; I figured there’d be time for discovery later…”

“I’m sorry that was taken from you.” He murmured.

“Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a horrible first time - I mean, not within the moment.” She told him the same thing she’d told Willow. “He took care of me, he was gentle… but afterwards kind of just ruined the whole thing.”

“The after is just as important, Buffy.” He said, still speaking softly, non-judgemental. “Knowing Angel, I’m sure had he… had circumstances been, um, different… he- he would’ve been quite sweet to you.”

“You’re sweet to me.” Buffy told him, not wanting to talk about Angel anymore. Giles smiled softly, and Buffy kissed him deeply, making it passionate without making it too urgent. Blindly, she slid her palm back down his shirt and over his cock, resting her hand against his arousal as they kissed.

He moaned into her mouth, his hips curling up against the heat of her palm, and she moved her hand down to cup his balls.

Giles gasped loudly all of a sudden, almost a yelp, as he curled forward off the seat a little and throbbed within her grasp. She squeezed him carefully, remembering from Willow’s advisement to be particularly gentle here, and watched his face as she massaged him in different ways until she could see what he liked the most.

“Christ, Buffy!” He cursed, quickly reaching that panting point again. His left hand curled tightly around the steering wheel, his knuckles white, and Buffy watched with interest as she could see the veins in his cock begin to pronounce themselves. There seemed to be quite a bit of precome dribbling from the tip, more than she expected anyway, the head swollen and more revealed to her now.

“Are you close?” She asked, wondering if that was a sign, and he didn’t answer her immediately. When she glanced toward his face again, his head was back against the seat, the muscles in his neck tight as he seemed to be holding his breath.

Looking down again, Buffy rubbed the pads of her fingers against the head of his cock and spread the precome around it, using it to soften the friction between them as she fisted him.

“Bloody hell!” He growled, suddenly loud, and she jumped a little bit, the knuckle of her first finger rubbing against the ridge of the mushroomed head, which was now noticeably darker than it’d been before, his blood thrumming in his veins. She imagined she could almost hear it.

She slid her fist down his length at a steady but leisurely pace, watching carefully how his body moved and responded to her. His hips rose up off the seat, matching her pace at first, but soon it was clear he wanted her to speed up.

“Please, Buffy,” He gasped, and she looked up to find him out of breath. She kissed his cheek, and then his jaw, and his ear before grinning,

“You want me to go faster?” He nodded immediately, not verbally responding as his eyes latched onto what her hand was doing. “Alright, I’ll go faster,” She promised him, and did just that. “Come when you need to, Giles. I want to see you.” For a moment, the only noise in the car was his unsteady breathing and the slightly wet sounds of her fingers pumping his cock.

He let out a quiet kind of whining noise as he tensed beneath her again, his hips pushing up into her hand. His hand on her back shifted up to curl around the nape of her neck, and he pressed his mouth against her jaw. He seemed unable to keep himself from grunting, though he was obviously trying, as he more rested his mouth against her skin rather than kissed her directly, all of his muscles bunching up tightly.

He cried out as he came, his cock pulsing in her fist, his entire body tense in his seat as his hips rutted upward in an offbeat rhythm. Some of it landed on his bare thigh, but most coated her fist, and a distant part of her was relieved that none of it had gotten on his sweater - she highly doubted he had an extra shirt in the car.

His head dropped back against his seat again and she shifted so she could watch him while she stroked him through it. At first, he almost looked to be in pain, but that quickly melted away into pleasure, and a big grin suddenly broke out across his face. He even _giggled_ a little bit, the sound delighted and maybe a bit incredulous.

He was… _gorgeous._ That expression of ecstasy was amazing, and she wanted to keep him there forever. She gentled her hands, both of them on him now, slowly stroking her fingers of one hand along his length and across to his hips, as she kept her other hand warmly encased over his tip. It seemed like a full minute went by and he was still throbbing intermittently against her fingers, even after the rest of him relaxed in a sated heap in his seat.

He’d stopped coming but he was still twitching, and she rested her palm against the underside of his cock, pressing gently against the base as she otherwise let him free from her grip. He gasped again, a breathless sound that sounded partially dismayed, but when Buffy met his eyes again he was looking down at her with such love that it actually made her eyes sting. As he finally began to soften a little against her hand, she shifted her head close again to give him a lingering kiss, mindful of his shortness of breath.

When he rested his head back again and she leaned away to give him a moment to catch his breath, she focused on the come on her fingers. At first, she thought it was kind of gross, but then she figured it wasn’t much different than when she masturbated.

“Here,” He murmured, watching her turn her hand about and wiggle her fingers a little. He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled free his ever-present handkerchief, and Buffy took it from him with her cleaner hand, but didn’t use it yet.

Hesitantly, she sniffed her fingers, and then darted her tongue out to taste him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Giles exclaimed in surprise, followed by that breathless giggle slipping out again, and Buffy raised her eyebrow at him as she slid two of her fingers more fully into her mouth, cleaning them off. She wouldn’t say the taste was great, but it certainly wasn’t a turn-off, and the way he was watching her do it was definitely exciting.

She then wiped her hands clean calmly, and used the handkerchief to tenderly clean him up as well, his cock now soft enough again that it rested against his leg. His hand had meanwhile returned to lovingly stroking up and down her back, and he sighed softly as she folded up the handkerchief and tucked it onto the floorboard between them.

When their gazes met again, they stared at one another quietly for a moment, both of them gently smiling. Buffy took in the bright, sated look in his eyes, and the soft curve of his mouth, and she smiled wider.

“I love you.” She told him, and as she rested her hand against his chest to lean in, he pulled her closer and met her kiss with a loving one of his own.

After a few minutes, he shifted in his seat and she felt him grimace.

“Let me…” He shifted away and looked down as he carefully peeled his ass up off the leather seat and tugged his jeans back up over his hips. He tucked himself away and buttoned up before turning back toward Buffy. “I’m not sure…” He grinned a little, teasing, “that I made any noises all that strange…”

“You laughed,” Buffy pointed out, her brow furrowing, and his smile only widened. “Never heard of anybody laughing during that, before.” He shook his head.

“Sex should be fun, should feel good. Plenty of people laugh, sometimes. What you see in the movies and on television is a horrible misrepresentation.” He explained, and it almost sounded like his Librarian voice, and she did laugh at that.

“Oh, I’d pay money to have seen you give Sunnydale kids sex-ed!” She snorted, and he huffed and pinched at her side, tickling her. She uncontrollably laughed harder for a minute, until she pushed the offending hand away.

“So, so it was good?” She managed to check, catching her breath. “It felt good?”

“Buffy,” He hummed, leaning close to kiss her nose and then her lips, briefly. “It was wonderful.” He drew his mouth along her jaw without pulling away, and she found herself tilting her head to give him easier access. “I would very much enjoy returning the favor, in fact.” He murmured, continuing to kiss her neck.

His hand slid over her thigh, much like hers had on his earlier, and she jumped. Just like he had, earlier.

Her panties were so damp, she honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she’d _already_ come, when he had. Nonetheless, his touch felt wonderful through her thin cotton trousers, and she dutifully shifted in her seat until he had enough room to slide his hand beneath her waistband.

He didn’t even undo her pants; just maneuvered his hand within the tight space against the seam of her pants and rubbed his fingers against her damp underwear. Well… damp was an understatement.

He moaned her name as he discovered just how wet she was, and easily found the sensitive nub of her clitoris and began to rub his fingers against it through her panties.

“Oh, God!” Buffy jumped in her seat again and clenched her fingers around his shoulder and upper arm, quickly growing dizzy with arousal.

“Mm, you’re close, aren’t you?” He hummed, pleased, breathing in the scent of her skin beneath her jaw. She nodded jerkily against him, not bothering to restrain the natural movement her hips demanded to make against his hand. “One of these days,” He promised in a low growl, “I want to taste you.”

For a second her mind acknowledged the truth of that, remembering his thoughts about going down on her in the library, but then her mind went blank as pure white pleasure coursed through her. He smothered her cry with his mouth, kissing her deeply as he kept his fingers firmly pressed against her and let her ride it out to her own relief.

She hadn’t even realized her eyes had shut until she was opening them again, her cheek pressed against the top edge of the seat, watching him as he lifted his hand up nearer to his face.

“Hmm.” He made a musing sound, before resting his fingers against his mouth, breathing in her scent on the pads of his fingers as his tongue attempted a taste at what dampness he’d managed to acquire through her panties.

Buffy moaned and closed her eyes again, unable to bear any further arousal, and slouched down in the bench seat until her cheek was resting atop his thigh.

After a moment, she felt him brush her hair back over her ear, and then he rested his hand atop the side of her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slowly against her skin.

“I know I didn’t laugh,” She mumbled sleepily, “but that was very good for me, too.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he lovingly replied,

“Good.”

**... ... ...**

The third night, they both focused entirely on patrol, a bit miffed that they couldn’t find hide nor tail of the werewolf.

“To be fair,” Buffy noted, “We’ve only found dead rabbits and the occasional stray cat. Maybe… maybe it’s a tame werewolf. Like Oz.”

“Oz isn’t tame,” Giles informed her gently. “While he is working on his control, as he’s explained to me it is a very… careful agreement between himself and the wolf. He still has to lock himself up during the full moon; the wolf has just chosen to accept the terms, so long as he still shifts.”

“Is that why he has more wolfy abilities now even when he’s person-Oz? Like, his sense of smell and stuff?” Buffy wondered, and Giles nodded thoughtfully, probably recalling a book he’d read.

“Quite likely. The longer he lives with the wolf, the more he learns how to use it to his advantage.”

“Do you think he’ll ever be able to control the change?” Buffy wondered, pushing aside a section of bushes with the end of her quarterstaff.

“That I can’t say.” Giles replied sadly. “It would be wonderful, especially for him I’m sure, if he could. I suppose I could research it a bit more… it’s difficult to find any older living werewolves anymore. They were hunted down quite methodically by the Council a few decades back. Honestly, it’s a miracle his cousin was even born… The fact that his aunt is not only alive but flourishing with a family…” He sounded amazed.

“Same odds as a Slayer, in that regard, huh?” Buffy figured, and he quickly sobered as he looked at her.

“You are going to die old and grey, Buffy. I insist upon it.” He informed her seriously.

“Oh, you insist?” She smiled softly, and touched his arm for a moment as they walked together between the trees. “Conversation change. I know you don’t like that one. So, about our mystery wolf,” He chuckled lightly, appreciative.

“Very smooth.” He praised teasingly, and she half shrugged, letting her hand fall and stepping away from him before he thought she was trying to put the moves on him again.

“All these people out and about these summer nights, and not a single one dead by werewolf? That’s definitely some self-control, there.”

“I’d have to agree.” Giles nodded, pausing for a moment as they both heard the snap of a twig to their left. “It must be an older wolf, or perhaps someone who’s been trained to control it.” He quietly released the safety on the tranquilizer gun as he spoke, resituating it for quick aiming once the intruder showed themselves.

Buffy set her quarterstaff on the ground, and Giles raised his eyebrow at her in silent question as she casually began to stretch.

“Well, the moon has set and the sun will be up in a couple hours, so I think we might as well call it a night.” She told him, her peripheral vision focused on the vampire that was attempting to sneak up on them. As she bent over to stretch her fingers to her toes, she grabbed the stake tucked against her ankle beneath her jeans, casually straightening and letting Giles see it without brandishing it too obviously.

Awareness colored his features and he flipped the safety back on the gun; a tranquilizer dart would only annoy a vampire, but he could still use the weapon to bash the demon’s head, if he needed to.

Vampires always seemed more desperate in the summer; shorter nights meant they couldn’t stray as far from their lairs to hunt. It began to run toward them from much too far away, and all Buffy had to do was turn and face it, holding the stake up in both hands at its chest level. It didn’t have time to slow down as it staked itself, and she closed her eyes and mouth as dust poofed over her.

“Ughhhh, gross!” She whined once it settled, opening her eyes and shaking her limbs.

“That was a bit… disappointing.” Giles admitted, and she sighed in agreement.

“The only action I get in _three nights_ , and it’s over before it even started.” She grumbled, brushing off her shirt. Giles made an odd noise, and she glanced up toward him, and then realized what she’d said. “Well, not _that_ kind of action,” She smirked, “that action has been very nice.”

He swallowed, and looked at her for another minute before abruptly bending to pick up her quarterstaff and hold it out toward her.

“We should get back. Anya apparently has a demon friend, or something, visiting town, and asked for the morning off.”

“You have to open after patrolling all night with me?” Buffy asked in surprise, accepting the staff from him and walking with him back out toward the overlook where the car was parked. “Giles! I could’ve come out on my own tonight. You won’t get any sleep!”

“I’m a better shot than you.” He replied, a little bit smug about it, and she elbowed him. He grunted, but grinned.

“Well… you’ll be catching up on lots of sleep soon enough. Can you believe summer is almost over? It seemed like it flew by.” Buffy sighed, but she was excited. She was actually looking forward to classes, a new school, a new pace of life.

“It has,” He admitted, sounding happy and longing all at once. “It’s been wonderful, however.” When she looked up at him, he was smiling warmly at her, and she smiled back.

“It has.” She mirrored his words firmly, tucking her stake in her pocket so she could free up a hand to hold his. He carded their fingers together, and they strolled out of the woods together in comfortable silence.

“With classes starting, and you living on campus, we’ll be seeing less of one another.” Giles commented randomly as he was driving her home.

“Yeah…” Buffy sighed, but then said, “At least I’m just at UC. You could join me for lunch sometimes! And I’ll still be patrolling some - I can’t let Faith have _all_ the fun. I’m sure my patrols could bring me ‘round to your place, every now and then…” She grinned a little, but his responding smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You know that I’d like you to focus on your studies, primarily, Buffy.” He reminded her softly, gently. “College is a time of discovery. Find something you enjoy, a topic to study, perhaps a new hobby,”

“I enjoy you,” She reasoned, sliding her fingers over his knuckles where his hand rested on the gear shifter, and this time his smile was genuine, though it still didn’t linger.

“We should…” He trailed off and shifted in his seat a little. “Work on our, our um, temptation for uh… making out so often.” He glanced over to give her a wry look, and she snorted and giggled.

“We won’t get nearly as many chances, soon.” She begrudgingly agreed, letting her hand slide away from his without any hard feelings. “I know. We gotta get ourselves used to that, huh?” He nodded, the hand on the steering wheel shifting and tightening for a moment before he relaxed.

“I believe it would help both of us keep our sanity,” He admitted. “And while we aren’t truly ‘long-distance’… well…”

“It’s okay, Giles.” Buffy assured him. Now that her freshman year was imminent, she was admittedly more understanding about what he was saying. Though there was still _no chance_ that 'time of discovery' would stretch toward dating someone else. “Just, you know, don’t forget - you’re my guy.” He didn’t say anything to that, but when she looked over at him again, he had a pleased smile on his face. “And I enjoy you for more than just your wicked kisses too, you know that?” She added, and his smile widened and he reached over without turning his eyes from the road, grasping her hand and pulling it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.


	15. Chapter 14 (The Freshman)

“Today Buffy and I got into an argument!” Willow announced happily, and Buffy quieted her snicker as she saw how Giles paused what he was doing and slowly lifted his head to look at Willow. “A real debate! About a college lecture!” She continued excitedly, and Giles visibly relaxed.

“Ah.” He returned, going back to his reading.

She’s turning into quite the student,” Willow sighed, proud, and Giles merely hummed softly, but his smile was proud too.

Buffy was pleased to have impressed her smarty-pants best friend so much, and Giles too, but it was also kind of embarrassing. She nudged the basement door open wider with a loud shuffle of her foot, announcing her presence as she returned to the room.

“Don’t go telling everybody the truth, Will,” Buffy grinned as she approached the counter and set the book down that Giles had ‘lost’. “I have a reputation as a solid average person to maintain!”

Giles gave her a wry look at her words, and quietly thanked her for the book as he opened it up on top of the one he was already reading.

“Should I be watching my occipital lobe?” Willow joked, clearly amused, but Buffy didn’t get it.

“Your what?” She asked, mildly concerned.

“Occipital. The lobe in the back of your brain.” She pointed at the base of her skull. “You know, like, should I be watching my back? But, you know, the back of your brain.” She trailed off and sighed apologetically as Buffy still looked lost.

“Apparently not.” Buffy appeased her. “Don’t worry, Will. You still wear the smarty pants in the family.”

Giles looked up at them again suddenly, frowning as if he were affronted that title wasn’t his, but then just as suddenly a wide grin burst across his face.

“Occipital.” He repeated to himself, and then giggled. Buffy gave Willow a pointed look, and the red-head smiled in amusement but said,

“I don’t know, you’ve been studying really a lot.”

“I’m trying,” Buffy sighed, nearing Willow to help her unpack the box of new shipment that had come in.

Leave it to them to take a break from college work to come to the shop to do more work. At least this was kind of interesting, though; all the weird stuff Giles would either buy or have sent to him from all around the world. And it didn’t take too much brain power to unpack and shelve.

“They’re already piling on all the reading, and Giles fills any free time I have with extra training.” She tried not to sound too annoyed, but he was being a real stickler for the rules during all this extra training. She shouldn’t be blamed for distracting him while they’d been in the basement, and the fact he hadn’t remembered where he’d put his book down. “I’m starting to think this working hard is hard work.”

“Isn’t it crazy like that?” Willow sympathized.

“I thought it was gonna be like in the movies. You know, inspirational music, a montage; me sharpening my pencils, me reading, writing, falling asleep on a big pile of books with my glasses all crooked -” Okay, maybe she was daydreaming a little too much about Giles now, and quickly came up with an excuse, “cause in my montage, I have glasses - but real life is slow, and it’s starting to hurt my occipital lobe.”

“Oh, poor Buffy’s brain.” Willow gently knocked her fingers against Buffy’s forehead.

“Speaking of training,” Giles suddenly piped up again, and Buffy sighed silently.

“Dontcha just love that selective hearing of his?” She sassed to Willow, who smirked. Giles gave Buffy a look, and she smiled at him innocently as she lightly skipped to the back room, grabbing one of the changes of clothes from the cabinet before heading back to the bathroom to change.

When she returned to the training room, she expected Giles to be padding up for some hand-to-hand work. Instead, he was standing barefoot near the mats with a couple of small towels and a bottle in his hands.

“Lotus position,” He told her softly, nodding his head toward the mats, and she did so while wondering,

“More meditating today? I thought your weekly schedule was ‘very precise’,” She teased, and then said, “I don’t know if my brain can take any more thinking or focusing, really. It’s totally fried. Like, serve-on-a-platter fried.” Giles was silent as she heard him moving behind her. “You know, for like, Hannibal Lecter or somebody who eats brains. ...Which is totally gross, and not something I condone.”

“Nothing strenuous today, Buffy.” Giles soothed, as he sat down on the mats behind her. “A-are you, um… w-wearing a uh, a bra underneath that shirt?” He asked tentatively, and she craned her head around to raise her eyebrow at him. He blushed a little bit, but pursed his lips and lifted the bottle for her to read the label.

“Oh.” She realized it was massage lotion, and her heart sort of skipped a beat anyway. Giles wanted to massage her? Put his hands on her skin? Sure, he’d done it a hundred times before, but that was before…

“If- if you’re comfortable, of course.” He quickly added. “I can- we can, try something else, instead,”

Before he could shift away or stand back up, Buffy quickly peeled off her shirt and tossed it to the side. His breath caught for a moment, but then she could feel him relax. He stretched his legs out on either side of her, shifting forward closer to her though he didn’t quite touch her.

“Breathe…” He soothed, gently resting his palms atop her bare shoulders. His hands were  _ hot _ , and she sighed softly as she let her eyes drift closed. “Relax into your breath. Let the world fall away.”

The rest of the world did, as he began to slide his palms across her shoulders, near her neck and outward, over and over again in rhythm to her breathing. But just like in the library what felt like eons ago,  _ he _ overwhelmed her senses. She was very aware of exactly where he was in the space around her, his scent surrounding her along with the smooth tones of his voice.

He warmed up her skin and muscles with his hands first, gently rubbing and gripping her shoulders to rotate them slowly, loosening up her tight muscles further. He mostly focused on her shoulders and upper back, her neck, and the base of her skull.

“Hmm,” She couldn’t help but purr as he massaged the pads of his fingers behind her ears, gentle circles that moved her head a bit with how relaxed she was already.

She felt him gather her hair up in his fingers then, stroking through it and gently detangling it. His hands eventually returned to her shoulders, lingering there for a moment before stroking down her upper arms. He repeated that action a couple of times, before gently looping his thumb under the hair tie on her wrist and sliding it off. Then his hands were repeating their path back up to her hair, and still moving slowly and methodically, he tied it up in a loose bun on top of her head.

“Too snug?” He asked quietly, so as not to break the moment, and she shook her head a little. It was actually way looser than she would normally put her hair up, but she figured he didn’t want to add any extra tension on her skin. “Good.” He hummed as he continued to massage her scalp, and she closed her eyes as she could literally feel her headache drain away.

The feel-good endorphins were flooding her brain now, both from his touch alone and the particular way that he was touching her - he really knew his stuff.

“I don’t remember your massages feeling  _ this  _ good before,” She mused lazily, letting her weight rest backward a little bit more, and he chuckled quietly as he returned his hands to her arms and let her lean against his chest for a moment.

God, she’d never been so comfy in her life.

“Those were Watcher massages,” He explained, resting his chin over the top of her head for a moment. “These are Giles massages.” His voice vibrated through her, and she shivered. He slowly leaned away and pushed her back to sit up straight again, probably not wanting to arouse her.

Too late for that, but, this wasn’t the kind of electric feeling he usually inspired in her. It was more of that molten, lava-y thing, without all the heat. Well, the sexual heat. This was something different, something just as pleasurable and intimate but didn’t call for action. It wanted her to just  _ be _ .

So she took in a slow breath again, let it out, and relaxed under his touch as he turned his focus to her shoulders and back. After a while, he added the massage lotion into the mix, and even the thin straps of her sports bra were still too much barrier between his hands and her skin. A part of her was still distantly aware of the likely-unlocked training room door, however, and that Willow was out in the shop.

Giles slipped his fingers beneath the straps on her back a few times, and she felt that he was mildly annoyed by them as well, but he didn’t shift them out of the way. Even knowing they weren’t alone in the building, Buffy probably would’ve let him if he had. He probably knew that, too.

He hit a tough spot behind her right shoulder blade, and she moaned a little in discomfort. He made a soothing noise and focused on the spot until he’d carefully worked out the knot, and Buffy moaned again in appreciation. His hands continued their diligent work, but she heard the shaky breath he released, and she desperately wanted to shift backward again and feel if he was hard.

“You’re tensing up again,” He murmured, spreading his hands wide over her shoulders, urging her to relax, and she did so immediately. She could smell the arousal on his skin, but he didn’t act on it, and she decided not to draw attention to it. She was in a cloud of bliss and she didn’t actually want Giles to stop what he was doing anytime soon.

Her burgeoning headache was now completely gone without a trace, and she was more relaxed now than she’d been since the moment she’d first stepped on campus two weeks ago. They couldn’t sit here forever, however, and eventually Giles let his hands slide away from her, her skin now soft and smelling vaguely of lavender and mint.

“How do you feel?” He murmured, wiping what was left of the lotion on his hands on one of the towels beside him.

“Like a limp noodle, in totally the best way.” Buffy sighed happily. He chuckled softly, and she felt him lean forward and press his mouth against her deltoid muscle, kissing her warmly as he breathed her in. She sucked in a breath in delighted surprise, but then he was gone and standing up, gathering up the towels and bottle of lotion to put away. Buffy sighed again, mildly disappointed, but she let the disappointment fall away as she stood as well.

“Now what?” She wondered, her happy cloud dissipating into a calm clarity that she had missed. She rolled her shoulders a little and she smiled. “Target practice? I bet I could hit the bullseye from across the room, right now.”

He returned her smile, but said,

“Let’s not undo all my hard work, hm? Why don’t we go join the others and you can tell me how your first two weeks of university have gone.”

“That’s it?” Buffy asked in surprise.

“Proper recuperation is just as important as the training itself, Buffy.” Giles pointed out, and she half-shrugged.

“Yeah, but usually you’re telling me that when I’m staying up too late watching movies or hanging out with the Scoobies.”

“Even the Slayer can be over-stressed, at times.” He replied, and she gave him a mock-surprised face.

“You’ve grown so much since I’ve first met you, Giles.” She said proudly, and he rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps, ehm, get dressed?” He suggested with only a minor stammer, gesturing his head toward the door, and Buffy only then remembered that she was standing there in only her bra and yoga pants.

“Right.” She blushed a little as she retrieved her shirt, and Giles cleared his throat quietly as he focused elsewhere for a moment. “Hey,” She murmured once she had her shirt back on, and stepped close enough to rest her hand against his chest. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I’m your Watcher,” He replied, obviously embarrassed, and she smiled as she slipped her arms around him and hugged him warmly, her cheek pressed where her hand had been. She loved when he said stuff like that, even though he was still technically defrocked from the Council.

“That’s right, Watcher-mine.” She hummed, and closed her eyes when she felt him return her hug. He pressed a quick kiss against her hair, and then gently urged her back.

“Tell me about your classes,” He suggested, and she followed his lead as they headed out of the room together.

“I’ve been secret-identity gal a hundred percent,” She announced proudly. “Slayed a vamp on campus and Willow covered for me so smooth - you should’ve seen her, Giles! Very on it.”

“There are vampires on campus?” His brow furrowed in concern. “Is this common?”

“Dunno.” She shrugged. “Don’t think so? It’s definitely not as crazy as the high school, that’s for sure. Five whole miles from the Hellmouth really makes a difference, I guess.” She considered, though, and Giles recognized the look on her face.

“But…?” He prodded.

“I’m not sure… it’s almost  _ too _ quiet, you know?” She glanced up at him. “I mean, not quiet-quiet - it’s actually really noisy sometimes at night, busy and hard to patrol - but the lack of demonic or undead creepiness is… creepy.”

“The usual incoming doom-and-gloom, kind of quiet?” He guessed, using her terms, making her smile briefly in amusement.

“Not sure. Keep an eye on those books for me, though?” She requested, and he nodded.

“Of course. That  _ is _ my job, after all.” He sassed, and she elbowed him.

“Hey Will,” Buffy spoke up when she was within view again, “Tell Giles about your new t.a. buddy in psych,” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly, and Willow flushed a little but immediately started going on about the handsome upperclassman and the ‘world renowned’ professor.

“Handsome, hm?” Giles mused, sounding like he was teasing Willow, but Buffy caught him glancing in her direction. She narrowed her eyes, giving him the most dry expression that she could muster.

“Oh, yeah - you should’ve seen Buffy,” Willow laughed. “We first met him in the bookstore and she knocked a whole stack of textbooks on his head!”

“That wasn’t because he was handsome!” Buffy protested. “I didn’t even notice him until after I gave him a concussion.”

“And then you were all stumbly in the verbage - you sounded like Giles almost!” Willow teased, and then glanced in Giles’ direction. “No offense.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be talking to Scottie Pippen in a college bookstore,” She muttered, embarrassed and just slightly annoyed. Buffy of the past would’ve totally gone for the t.a.’s type in a heartbeat, but she wasn’t that Buffy anymore. Well, she was trying not to be, anyway. She felt bad for having even acknowledged how pretty he’d been.

“Scottie Pippen?” Giles repeated, confused, and Buffy clarified,

“Riley’s like, gigantic. Basketball-player-tall. It, uh, surprised me.” Giles blinked at her, and she shrugged and looked away from him. “Anyway, psych class is actually kind of fun. Definitely more enjoyable than biology. No frog dissections for me, thank God! I do enough dissecting on patrol.”

“That would be bisecting, I think.” Willow offered.

“Yeah. That.” No one said anything for a moment, and she blurted, “I got kicked out of my first class.” At Giles’ disapproving expression, she quickly clarified, “I mean, it wasn’t technically my class, yet, I was sitting in and was gonna sign up but then… the uh, the professor kicked me out.”

“What - I thought you said you decided not to take it?” Willow protested in surprise, and Buffy shrugged hesitantly.

“I did decide not to take it… after the professor kicked me out.”

“Do I dare ask why he kicked you out?” Giles wondered, and Buffy huffed.

“I asked the kid next to me if he knew if the class was full up yet. It’s not like I beheaded a demon in front of him or anything.”

“That would… go completely against hiding your identity as the Slayer from everyone.” Giles agreed snarkily. He gave her a compassionate look, however, and added, “Some university professors can be… very strict about certain things. And quickly unforgiving. I trust your other classes went well? What have you discussed in psychology, thus far? You seem particularly interested in the topic.”

“I am,” Buffy admitted, looking him right in the eye as she said, “interested in the  _ topic _ . It’s actually kind of like… well, it actually made me more interested in the Slayer. Like, the history I mean. Other Slayers. How they lived. What their relationships were like with their Watchers.”

At first, he seemed delighted and surprised by Buffy’s interest, but then his face turned pinkish and he stammered a little.

“W-well, that’s, I could, I mean, there are - relationships?”

“Yeah, you know,” Buffy replied casually, “since everybody tells me every other Slayer before me didn’t have a Scooby gang of their own to hang with. I figure the only real relationship, friendship, whatever you wanna call it, they had was with their Watcher.”

“How did they handle that life, mentally? What were the dynamics like?” Willow was obviously curious about it as well; Buffy already knew, since they’d discussed it during their walk from campus to the Magic Box. She quickly got on a roll about it again, too, “There’s a relational models theory that describes four fundamental forms of social relationships: communal sharing, authority ranking, equality matching, and market pricing.” The way Willow could mentally recall something she read was remarkable, and Buffy wished she could do that nearly half as well. “Like, us Scoobies, we could be considered communal sharing. We became friends at first because we all shared something in common that others don’t - we fight demons! I think a Watcher and Slayer have that, for sure - that’s probably a reason the Slayer becomes so dependent on their Watcher, at least in the beginning. The Slayer doesn’t have anybody else who knows exactly what it is she does. Of course, there’s the obvious authority ranking - you and Buffy aside, Watchers are supposed to be the one’s in charge and telling the Slayer what to do,”

“Buffy and I aside?” Giles butt in, protesting. “I’m authoritative!”

“I think you and Buffy incorporate the equality matching, the most.” Willow continued, ignoring his fuss. “And that’s what makes you so different from other Watcher-Slayer relationships. But I wonder if other past Watchers ever attempted to be a little more equal with their Slayer, at all? I mean, you guys can’t be  _ the first _ , right? In  _ centuries _ ?”

“I didn’t quite get the market pricing thing.” Buffy commented, mostly wanting Willow to dig into  _ other _ Watcher-Slayer relationships rather than hers and Giles. “When did it become an economics class?”

“It’s just a fancy name,” Willow rolled her eyes, “you know how psychologists are.”

“Right,” Buffy raised her eyebrow a bit at Giles, teasing Willow, “cause I’m buddies with a lot of psychologists.”

“It’s a kind of relationship governed by ratios, proportions,” Willow explained, ignoring Buffy’s sass. “Like checks and balances. A metric of good actions and evil actions, and how to respond to that. Giving value to the greater of… whatever you choose deserves value.”

“So… a Slayer kills a higher number of demons, the Watcher likes the Slayer more?” Buffy guessed, and Willow nodded.

“Exactly. As a basic example, of course.”

“Basic! I do good basic.” Buffy grinned, and when she looked back toward Giles, he was smiling a little at her.

“You are very smart, Buffy.” He told her softly. “Sometimes you just need things phrased differently.”

“See?” Willow pointed at him, and he tilted his head a little in question. “You acknowledge that and cater toward it, at least a little bit. But other Watchers wouldn’t do that, right? They have the Council teachings and they force their Slayer to understand and follow the Council line, regardless whether or not the Slayer might find that confusing or difficult.”

“I, uh, yes, I suppose so.” Giles agreed, tugging off his glasses to clean them thoughtfully. “I… I suppose I could ask Wesley to request some of the older journals be sent to us… the Council certainly wouldn’t send them to me directly, but if he suggested the desire to study them for… for the purposes of, um, reining in an unruly Slayer…”

“Buffy!” Faith scolded as she strolled through the front entrance, the bell on the door dingling merrily. “Are you being unruly again? We’ve talked about this.”

“Speak of the devil.” Buffy sassed, rolling her eyes, but the two Slayers grinned at each other in greeting.

“What’s the sitch?” Faith wondered, leaning against the edge of the counter and smacking her gum as she glanced around the shop. “Word, G! This place is looking nice.”

“Thank you.” Giles replied. “We’re discussing the girls’ classes.”

“Ugh,  _ college _ .” Faith grimaced and gave Buffy a look. “Can’t believe you  _ want _ to deal with homework and tests for another four years.”

“It’s not so bad,” Buffy defended, a little hesitant about it. “Just a little… overwhelming.”

“Well, how about some old fashioned slaying to get your mind back on the exciting things of life?” Faith offered, wiggling her eyebrows. “You can watch Wesley critique my form, first-hand. His comments are  _ riveting _ .” She rolled her eyes, and Buffy grinned.

“Still thinks you’re too flashy, huh?” She guessed, and Faith smirked.

“What can I say? I always liked a good show.” She grinned lewdly, and Giles sighed.

“There is a point toward training, Faith. By becoming more efficient you remove more instances of your opponent possibly getting the upper hand,”

“Hey, I didn't sign up for  _ two  _ Watchers, buster,” Faith somewhat-gently interrupted him. “Stick with your own Slayer, huh?” She winked, then, and strolled back toward the door. “C’mon, B - we can hit up the ice-cream store on our way to the cemetery.”

“ _ Ice-cream. _ ” Buffy groaned happily. She dug Mr. Pointy out of her bookbag on the reading table and joined Faith. “Willow, mind taking my bag back to the dorm for me? I promise I won’t be too late, and we can study for that psych test again.”

“No problem!” Willow assured her, and Buffy followed Faith out the door with a newfound bundle of energy. She hadn’t had a good, normal, slay night since before classes started - and she could’ve laughed at that. Slaying, ‘normal’.

“Oh, hold up,” Buffy realized, skipping back toward the Magic Shop door and poking her head in. “Thanks, Watcher-mine.” She told Giles when he met her eyes, and he smiled warmly. He gave her a tiny nod, and she closed the door again. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Had to blow some kisses to your lover-man?” Faith joked, and Buffy huffed and rolled her eyes.

**— — —**

“It’s too bad Giles couldn’t be the librarian here. It’d be convenient.” Buffy mused, daydreaming a little bit as they meandered through the campus library. She and Willow could both have their ‘on-campus-boyfriends’, then…

“Buffy? What’re you thinkin’ about?” Willow elbowed her gently with an odd grin on her face. “You’ve got a weird smile going on.”

“What? Huh? Oh… just remembering training last week,” Buffy flubbed, “I put Giles right on his ass. I’m really getting better with the quarterstaff thing. ...Even if I’d rather have a sword or a stake.”

“You’re becoming quite the Slay-gal.” Willow nodded appreciatively, and teased, “I bet Giles is so proud.”

“Yeah, well… he sure loves the excuse for all the extra cross-referencing, that’s for sure. Apparently the Council sent Wesley a bunch of journals that neither of them had seen before while they were in Watcher school, so he’s happy as a pig in mud right now.”

Looking around the room, she knew he wouldn’t actually be as happy here. It was a huge space, but a lot of it was… empty. It was probably too modern for him, too. There were more shelves than the high school library, of course, but there was a lot of wasted space where bookshelves couldn’t be placed. Giles was all about his books, and here, ironically, the books didn’t actually seem to be the focal point. It wasn’t very ‘homey’ at all, either.

“Has he told you anything new about the whole Slayer thing, yet?” Willow wondered, drawing Buffy from her musings, and she shook her head.

“No… he’s either gonna wait until he’s got a whole notebook of notes for me, or, I don’t know, maybe he hasn’t found anything worth sharing yet.”

“You sound bummed.” Willow tilted her head to the side. “What’s up? Somehow I don’t think it’s because you wanna know about this stuff as soon as possible…”

“I just…” Buffy hesitated, wondering how to word it. Wondering if maybe she should give in and tell Willow the truth. “Guess I got used to the Scoobies all hanging together so much over the summer. Sure we’ve got Oz here, but Xander’s finally off on his tour of America and Giles has the shop…”

“We’re way overdue for a Scooby Movie Night, huh?” Willow lamented, and Buffy nodded. “Hey! Here’s an idea - Thanksgiving Break is gonna be a week long. What if we all got together then? I can see if Xander will be anywhere close by then.”

“What if we did Thanksgiving together?” Buffy brightened as the idea began to form in her head. “Like a… Scooby Family Holiday. Mom’s already said that she was gonna spend it with the family in Illinois, so I won’t have any obligations.”

“You know I don’t normally agree with the cultural appropriation - the  _ mis _ appropriation - of- ”

“I know, Willow,” Buffy interrupted before she could get going on her soapbox. “We don’t have to celebrate the destruction of the indians, we could… use it to celebrate us, getting together again, making it halfway through our first fall semester of college.”

“Well… when you put it that way…”

“There will be pie…” Buffy haggled, and Willow’s face brightened.

“Your mom’s pumpkin recipe? Okay, you’ve sold me.”

Buffy was excited for the future plans and couldn’t wait to share the idea with the others, but the holiday was still over a month away.

“You’re still in the dumps, huh?” Willow noticed, and when Buffy nodded, she tucked her arm around hers and tugged her close. “The caf has some pretty good ice-cream, I’ve heard…” She offered.

Ice-cream sounded good… she hadn’t had any since she and Faith each had a cone before their patrol session a few weeks ago. And, Buffy could maybe start to broach the subject with Willow about her feelings for Giles.  _ One  _ of her best friends needed to know the truth… the real truth.

“Ice-cream sounds awesome.” Buffy nodded, gathering her courage. “Lead on, Macduff!”

“Actually, it’s lay on.” Willow informed her as they shifted gears and headed toward the cafeteria instead of the dorm.

“Huh?”

“The quote, from Macbeth? It’s commonly misphrased. He says, ‘Lay on, Macduff!’ It’s a challenge during a fight for Macduff to try his worst against Macbeth, so really the quote wouldn’t even make sense in context if it  _ were _ phrased correctly…” Willow trailed off at Buffy’s smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I love my nerdy Willow.” Buffy hugged her arm and tilted her head against Willow’s shoulder for a moment. “Never change, Will.”

“I won’t if you won’t.” Willow replied brightly, hugging her back.

Buffy wondered if Willow would consider the fact that she was head-over-heels for Giles a huge change.

When they got to the cafeteria, Buffy couldn’t help but overhear a small group of kids gathered around one of the round tables, debating about missing students. Sharing a concerned look between them, Buffy and Willow slipped themselves into the conversation and tried to figure out if this was something serious.

**... ... ...**

“Giles!” Buffy used her morning free time to head to Giles’ apartment, hoping to catch him before he went to the shop. The door was unlocked, as usual, so she didn’t hesitate before walking in. “You’re still here, right? I saw the Citroen out front,” She glanced into the kitchen, then heard his footsteps on the stairs and turned around, trailing silent as she looked at him.

“Good morning, Buffy.” He looked pleasantly surprised, sleepily rubbing his hand against the back of his head. “What brings you here at this hour?”

“Uh…” Her mind had blanked upon seeing Giles with his tousled bed-head and his sleepy eyes and his- his  _ robe _ .

“Buffy?” He tilted his head down a little, giving her a bit of a concerned look, now.

“Missing student.” She murmured, her eyes drifting along the edge of the collar as he stepped closer to her. For some reason she was entranced by the bit of chest hair peeking out; she wanted to touch it. Her eyes trailing further downward, she noticed his ankles and his feet were bare, too.

“...And?” He prodded when she hadn’t added anything useful to her comment.

“Lots of missing pants.  _ Students _ .” She winced as she yanked her eyes back up to his, and he looked amused and embarrassed at the same time. “There are lots of missing students. Willow and I overheard a group talking about it in the cafeteria.”

“Perhaps… I should change, and we can discuss this,” Giles suggested, shifting to turn back toward the stairs, and Buffy gripped the sleeve of his robe before she really considered it.

“No, we uh,” Was he  _ naked _ under there? “I uh, don’t have much time before my first class.” She lied, gave him a quick apologetic smile, then realized she was stroking her thumb against the velvety soft fabric and yanked her hand back to herself. “I um,” She cleared her throat, and tried to focus on the reason why she came by in the first place. “I’ve seen some signs of struggle, and, and I checked some of the rooms of the missing students and they’ve  _ all  _ been cleared out. Overnight. Kids who don’t otherwise seem to be struggling much just suddenly up and decide to leave? It’s fishy.”

“Not fishmen, I hope.” He mused, slowly resting his hips against the edge of his desk, and folding his arms across his chest. He thought he was closing himself off more, but it made the top of the robe open up more and Buffy tried to keep her pulse steady as she looked into the general empty space beside him.

“I could live my whole life with never dealing with those guys again.” She wrinkled her nose. “I still can’t open up a can of tuna.” He smiled sympathetically, and waited for her to say something else, but she’d accidentally looked at his chest again.

She knew how soft that spot on his neck was, at the hollow of his throat. Below where his stubble grew - which, helloooo nurse! Morning stubble!

She ached to kiss him there.

“What are you thinking?” Giles asked her, urging her to continue, and she darted her eyes back up again, wide-eyed. He blinked calmly.

“Um… gang of vampires?” She figured, not thinking much about what she was saying. His stubble would probably feel scratchy against her cheek, and she shivered a little as she realized she’d probably like that. She hadn’t forgotten her little moment with ‘Ripper’ in the hospital elevator last year… she hadn’t forgotten in the least. “Targeting the freshmen because they think they won’t be as missed,”

“Are you… quite sure this is something nefarious?” He questioned carefully. “It couldn’t simply be a few students who couldn’t handle the pressure of university?”

“It’s more than a few, Giles,” Buffy insisted. “There’s a pattern. And, and, I just… have a feeling.” She trailed off, knowing that wasn’t much. Prophetic dreams were one thing, very telling, but even Buffy herself didn’t always trust her gut.

“Do you sense vampires on campus?” He asked her, still gently prodding her to reach the conclusion herself. “Before, you’ve mentioned it being surprisingly quiet.”

“Yeah, and  _ you  _ said ‘doom-and-gloom’ quiet,” Buffy reminded him, and he conceded that point.

“Very well.” He took a breath, and then let it out as he considered. “That still isn’t a whole lot to go on. Perhaps you should do a little more investigating, see what more details you can figure out? There are thousands of different gangs of vampires in the books.” He stood up, clearly judging the conversation as finished, but Buffy didn’t step back.

“Investigate, right.” She repeated, staring at the looped sash around his waist. With one tug of that, she could really find out if he was naked under there or not… She’d seen parts of Giles before, of course; his chest when he’d been injured and in the hospital, and his… bits, during their little  _ discovery _ session that late summer night… But the idea of Giles,  _ all  _ of Giles, all at once, was incredibly alluring.

“Buffy.” He warned quietly, noticing where she was staring, and he pointedly tightened his robe more securely closed and stepped backward in the direction of the hallway. “You should head to class.”

She glanced up toward his eyes again, carefully gauging his expression, and then stepped toward him as she eyeballed the robe again.

“Are you wearing anything other than that robe?” She wondered lightly, as if she were teasing him, but she knew her face was serious and her eyes intent. He swallowed deeply and tucked his hands into the pockets, hunching his shoulders just a little bit. She watched the way his toes curled against the rug he was standing on, as if trying to hold on for dear life, and she cocked a lopsided grin as she looked at his face again.

The morning light on his face was beautiful, and his eyes such a bright, soft green, even with the dilation of his pupils, that she found herself drifting closer again drawn to him beyond the temptation of his attire. When she was close enough to, she touched her fingers against the lapel of his robe, appreciating its softness, aware that her breathing was heavy and noticeably so.

Giles was probably  _ naked _ under there!

Her hands were on the belt while her mind was focused on his mouth, and the very kissable curve of his lips.

“Buffy, don’t,” He croaked, his hands on her wrists, and she sort of re-focused a little bit. She didn’t let go of the belt yet, but she continued to stare at his lips, conveying her desire pretty clearly.

“I don’t have class until eleven,” She told him breathlessly, leaning into his space, and his fingers gripped tightly around her wrists, tightly enough that had she not been the Slayer, it might’ve hurt.

“ _ Don’t _ .” His tone sounded half like a beg, half an order, and she froze as she realized he’d closed his eyes, squeezed shut tightly. His expression was not… a good one. She was pretty sure she could see disgust, there, and it jolted a shot of clarity through her.

Buffy loosened her hands from the sash of his robe and twisted her wrists free from his fingers, stepping away from him.

“Sorry,” She whispered, suddenly mortified with herself. He’d been uncomfortable from the beginning and she’d still been so focused on her own fascinations… “I’m sorry.”

“Buffy,” He opened his eyes and stepped forward when he realized she was backing toward the door.

“I’ll- I’ll get on that research,” She promised him. “See what else I can find out. I’ll be- uh, be back in a couple days.”

“Wait,” He looked apologetic now, but he shouldn’t be the one apologizing.

She couldn’t get his earlier expression out of her head.

“I need to go to class,” She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

She slipped out before he could say anything else, and leaned her back against the door for a moment after she closed it.

Gorgeous as he was, she couldn’t just  _ yank his clothes off _ without his permission. Even if there weren’t all that many clothes to be yanked off. But that wasn’t his fault - she’d barged into his home early in the morning and he hadn’t been expecting her.

“Great, Buffy. Real great.” She scowled at herself and headed off toward campus. “And now he’s never gonna wear that robe in your presence ever again.”

**... ... ...**

“The world of college at your fingertips, and you come back to  _ The Bronze _ ?” Xander’s voice pervaded her thoughts, and she whirled around in surprise.

“Xander!” She grinned happily, more than pleased to see his familiar joyful smile. “What are you doing here? You can’t have driven across the country  _ already _ .”

They hugged each other warmly, and after he made some jokes about his crappy car and hinted at a male stripper job that  _ begged _ for more detail, he’d shifted the conversation back toward her before she could avoid it.

“You’re here alone at The Bronze looking like you just got diagnosed with cancer of the puppy. What’s the what?” Xander sat down next to her as they found an unoccupied couch, and she looked down for a minute as she fiddled with a loose string on the bottom hem of her shirt.

“It’s nothing, I just…” She definitely couldn’t tell him that she’d almost molested Giles against his permission. “I was hoping for a normal first month of college, and turns out there are these vampires… a gang of them, going after freshmen and I guess stealing all their stuff? Making it look like they’ve just packed up and left. So no one is really searching for these kids, and Giles - ”

“Yeah, Giles would know what to do! Let’s get the gang together. Avengers assemble.”

“I… don’t want to bug him.” Buffy sighed. “Or the others. They’re just starting school; they don’t need this.”

“Well, so are you.” Xander pointed out, and she blinked, realizing that he was right, and surprised by his level of insight. “Take it a little easy on yourself, Buffy. These things take time to get used to and the others? They don’t have to worry about being a Slayer and fighting the forces of darkness every night. Sure, they’re a part of the team and they would - we all would - help you at the drop of a hat, but it isn’t our  _ destiny _ … it’s yours. You gotta give yourself more leeway, Buff. You’ve got way more on your shoulders than just trying to understand some lecture or make sure you finish a paper.”

“What if I just can’t cut it?” She wondered quietly, and he shook his head, leaning in seriously and putting his hand on her arm.

“Impossible. You’re Buffy.” He stated simply, as if she were Wonder Woman. When she still hesitated, he told her, “I’ve gone through some fairly dark times in my life. Faced some scary things, among them the kitchen at the fabulous ‘Ladies’ Night’ club. Let me tell ya something. when it’s dark, and I’m all alone, and I’m scared, or freaked out, or whatever, I always think… ‘What would Buffy do?’ You’re my hero.” When she met his eyes again, he smiled honestly. He looked a little nervous then, probably because of the emotion in her own eyes, and he blurted, “Okay, sometimes when it’s dark and I’m all alone, I’d think ‘What is Buffy wearing?’ but...”

“Can that be one of those things you never ever tell me about?” Buffy begged, and he nodded immediately.

“It’s a deal.” They shared a smile, and Buffy couldn’t express how comforted she felt.

“I’ve missed you, Xander.” She admitted, pulling him into another hug, and returned it fondly and rather chastely, considering his last comment.

“Didn’t think I was gone long enough for that,” He quipped lightly. “After all, my parents already moved me to the basement and I’m paying rent.”

“Even just a week without you is too long.” She replied, her tone teasing while her gaze was earnest.

“Oh, I bet you say that to all your guys.” He said with a grin. He hopped to his feet, then, and held his hand out as if he were requesting a dance. “Let’s go dust some vamps, huh?”

“Let’s.” She smiled softly as she let him pull her to her feet.

“Speaking of destinies, though - isn’t it like, Giles’es too? Why aren’t we running this by him, again? You two argue again?” Xander questioned as he tucked his hands into his pockets and strolled toward the exit with her.

“No, we’re not fighting.” Buffy assured him softly.

“Good.” He nodded like that pleased him. “You two were like peas and carrots over the summer. Kinda weird if you’re all distancey now.”

“Peas and carrots?” Buffy looked at him sideways.

“Another midnight motel special.” Xander explained. “You know, Forrest Gump? ‘Jenny and me was like peas and carrots’.” He changed his voice and Buffy immediately recognized where it was from. Her mom really loved that movie. “Always together, just like peas and carrots.”

“Well,” Buffy sighed, “that’s kinda hard when the pea’s gotta be rushing between classes all day long, and the carrot’s got a business to manage and stuff to sell and prophecies to keep on top of…” Buffy hesitated. “Or am I the carrot?” She looked at Xander in confusion. “Who’s the pea?”

“I don’t think that really matters.” He answered softly. “You’re his Slayer, Buffy. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. He’s stayed in Sunnydale for you, after all, even though the Council stopped paying him ages ago. Got his own job and everything just so he could hang around. He’s not going anywhere now.”

“Well…” Buffy wasn’t sure what to say, and wasn’t sure if Xander still suspected that she might ‘have a crush’ on Giles.

“You want to prove to him that you can handle it though, right?” Xander figured. “School and slaying?”

“Well… yeah.” That much was obvious.

“Accepting the offered hand is a way of handling something, Buffy.” Xander announced, giving her a little smile again as he gestured toward a four-door sedan that wasn’t shiny but was definitely an improvement on the last car she’d seen him in. “So let’s handle this together.”

“Thanks, Xander.” She murmured as she got into the car with him.

**... ... ...**

Admittedly, Buffy always felt her sharpest during a fight. As Xander reappeared at the dilapidated building with Oz and Willow in tow, she resolved for more nights of slaying on her schedule.

“Need a hand?” Oz wondered calmly, and Buffy twirled the stake in her hand, sure.

“No thanks. I got it.” She replied, flinging the stake behind her at the demon that called herself ‘Sunday’, hitting her in the heart without even looking. “Mind helping me with my stuff, though?” She asked brightly, as the death cries of the vampire echoed into dust.

They all helped her carry her stuff back to the dorm, Willow lamenting that if she’d been around and less focused on herself and on Oz, she would’ve returned to find Buffy’s empty half of the room much sooner.

“It’s okay,” Buffy shrugged it off as she resituated everything how she liked it. She smiled gratefully at Xander as he smoothed his hand over Mr. Gordo and set him carefully atop Buffy’s pillow, before then flinging himself onto the mattress with a groan.

“Remember when I said I tried to avoid the move-in stage?” He whined. “This is why.”

“But there’s ice-cream,” Willow offered, nudging Oz to go over to the mini-fridge and pull out the tubs they’d tucked inside.

“Ice-cream!” Buffy exclaimed in surprise, and Willow offered her a spoon.

“Apology ice-cream.” She said softly, and Buffy accepted the spoon only to immediately grip her into a tight hug.

“Oh! Ow.” Willow grimaced and hugged Buffy back. “Guess your arm’s okay, huh?”

“Sorry,” Buffy half-grinned as she pulled away, and rotated her arm carefully. “It’s still sore, but was never broken. Anyway, I’ve got some ibuprofen around here somewhere…” She couldn’t remember where it was now after having to re-set up her room again, and she shrugged a little. “Oh well. Ice-cream works wonders, too.”

They piled their blankets and pillows on the floor between the beds and sat in a loosely formed circle, passing around the different flavors of ice-cream as they talked about college classes and road trips.

Aside from the relaxing massage from Giles, Buffy felt more at peace with herself now than she had since she’d first stepped foot on the campus, and confident that she could handle whatever college threw at her. She could handle it because she really wasn’t handling it alone. And actually, it wasn’t really all that different from high school… it could be even better.

At least she knew what to expect, in any case.

**... ... ...**

When Xander eventually called it a night, and Oz left with him, Willow decided to turn in as well.

“I’m still a little wired,” Buffy admitted. “Think I’ll go for a walk.”

“You sure?” Willow murmured sleepily, worried, and Buffy patted her shoulder as she tucked the blanket more firmly around her.

“I’ll be fine. No talking to strangers and no taking candy from creepy men.” Buffy promised. “Plus, I have Mr. Pointy with me.”

“Okay… night, Buffy.”

“Sleep tight, Willow.” She smiled softly as her best friend almost immediately began breathing heavier with sleep, and she carefully closed the door silently behind her as she headed out of the dorm.

She made no allusion to anything otherwise as she strolled toward Giles’. If she wanted him to treat her like an adult, she had to act like one. Avoiding him wasn’t going to solve anything, and anyway, she needed to tell him that the vampire gang had been taken care of.

She knocked, this time, although she knew that his door was unlocked. His light was still on, and it was only a moment before he opened the door.

“Buffy.” He sounded relieved to see her, and immediately stepped aside to silently offer her entrance. “It’s quite late. Is everything alright?” She glanced toward the clock, realizing that it was just past two a.m.

“Fine. The vampire gang won’t be a problem anymore.” He seemed to just then notice her injuries, and his eyes looked alarmed as he reached out toward her.

“You’re hurt,” He frowned, looking at them closer. “Those are healing.”

“From the other night,” She confirmed, choosing not to react one way or the other to his near touch. “I’m okay.” His hand dropped before he actually touched her.

“You killed them all yourself?” He asked with impressed surprise. “How many were there?” He slowly sat back down at his desk, and she realized that his journal was out amongst the other texts strewn across the tabletop.

That had been something that always amused her, a little bit, in a proud sort of way; that he still wrote in his journals so diligently. Sometimes she wondered what he said about certain instances. Other times, she didn’t want to know.

“Half dozen or so.” Buffy shrugged. “I had some help. Willow and Oz… and Xander.”

“Ah, good,” Giles smiled, softly, and then said, “Xander’s back already? That’s quite a surprise, I thought…” He trailed off, and then looked hurt in a way that seemed to cut through her. “A Scooby patrol?” He asked softly, the implication of his absence obvious in the tone of his voice.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I told you that I would help, once you had more detail that you could give me,” He chided gently, and she bristled a little bit.

“That’s not the point!” She exclaimed, and when he blinked at her, she immediately paced away from him a few steps, trying to rein in her emotions so she could speak calmly with him. “It wasn’t about the research, it was about  _ me _ . I saw your face, Giles. You were scared. You were  _ disgusted _ .”

“Not of you!” He protested, quickly getting to his feet again. “Christ, Buffy, I was naked!” She stared at him, and he flushed a little and darted his gaze away for a moment. “I was naked b-beneath my robe and I… I was aroused.” He admitted. “I didn’t w-want you to see that.”

“You… didn’t?” Buffy felt that sharpness in her chest again. It was exactly what she’d hoped, what she’d wanted to see, but he’d been thinking just the opposite… and that was exactly the problem. “But I… I mean, I’ve seen…”

“It wasn’t… simply the matter of being seen. Just being naked, in the same room with you, Buffy…” He sighed softly. “It took everything within me not to drag you up those stairs and into my bed.”

She blurted out a keening noise and stepped toward him, but he stepped back and she immediately froze, mentally kicking her lack of self-control.

“I couldn’t do that.” He insisted, shaking his head. “My love for you is not just physical.”

“I know that.” Buffy insisted earnestly. “Of course I know that.” She softened her expression, and hesitantly stepped toward him again. This time he didn’t step back, but he still looked weary.

“At the time, it didn’t feel that way.” He admitted quietly. “Not to me. I wasn’t - I couldn’t… think rationally.” He gingerly lifted his hand to brush his fingers against her cheek. “I didn’t mean to hurt you by pushing you away, Buffy. I- I was just… frightened. Of myself. Of the power of my feelings for you.”

“I scared myself, too.” She admitted quietly. “I guess I was a little hurt but, mostly, I was just… disappointed with myself. That I didn’t pay attention to  _ you _ , really to you, I mean.” She paused, before offering him a timid smile. “I was aroused too, you know.”

“I  _ know _ .” He assured her, returning with a tiny smile of his own. “That was quite obvious, and so… so e-exciting.” He let out a breath, and then added softly, “But I wasn’t ready.”

She sobered at that information, and thought about it for a minute. His hand drifted from her face, but then he took her hand within his own and rubbed her knuckles soothingly.

“When will you be?” She asked him, still speaking quietly and he took a long while before answering her.

“I’m not sure.”

That hurt, too, but it was honest and it was how he felt and she appreciated that.

“Let me know when you are?” She half-hoped, and he gave her an earnest look.

“The very moment.” He promised, and the love in his eyes was overwhelming, but she wasn’t sure that this was a good time to be kissing him. She wanted him too much.

“Maybe, um, in the meantime… I’ll call ahead before I come over?” She winced apologetically. “To make sure you’re dressed and all.”

“That would be best,” He agreed, sounding relieved as he sat back down in his desk chair. Buffy tried not to let that hurt too much, either, but obviously he saw something in her face. “Buffy,”

“Don’t,” She interrupted. “Don’t apologize for the way you feel.”

“I love you.” He insisted, and she shook her head.

“I know that. I know you do. I love you too. You just… maybe you just love me too much, Giles.” She said as it came to her, and he looked confused. Suddenly, it seemed to make an incredible amount of sense, though. “Even with the talk you had with Mom, even with all of our talks and being open and honest - you’re still second-guessing yourself. Whether it’s because you’re my Watcher, or older, or maybe both - you’re hyper-paranoid for things to be  _ perfect _ , Giles, and I don’t want that - I just want you.”

“So much of your life is imperfection, and pain, and darkness,” Giles protested gently, his eyes bright with emotion. “How can you fault me for wanting  _ something _ to be perfect for you, something I might possibly have some control over?”

“I don’t  _ fault _ you, Giles.” Buffy assured him. “I just think you’re thinking too much about it. People aren’t perfect, and that means love isn’t perfect either. And I know I don’t have a ton of experience but I’m smart enough to know that sex is the same way - it’s imperfect, it’s messy, it’s sometimes awkward and uncomfortable - just like people. Just like love.” She paused for a moment, and smiled softly at him. “Being with you is as close to perfection as I care to be, Giles. And okay, I totally understand that you’d prefer we not have sex for the first time in the car or in the training room or out in the grass in some cemetery somewhere - but one of these days we’ll find ourselves alone, in your apartement, at the end of the day, with nothing scheduled the following morning… and if it’s  _ really _ awkward and uncomfortable, well, we’ll practice until it  _ is _ a mutually agreeable level of perfect.”

He blinked at her for a moment at her wordiness, and then grabbed her hand again and pulled her closer to his chair, tilting forward until the top of his head pressed against her chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“I love you, so much.” He sighed, his voice muffled slightly. “It overwhelms me.”

“I understand the feeling.” She carded her fingers through his hair, stroking it gently, until she felt his tension relax away. He eventually straightened again, and she let him, her hands sliding down to catch his before he pulled his arms completely away from her. He was looking at her in soft amazement, now.

“In some ways, Buffy, you are more mature than I, I think.”

She brightened, and quipped,

“Can I tell my mom you said that?”

“Not unless you're willing to share the context, which I’m sure she’d want.” He drawled, and she winced.

“Right. Thanking her for not castrating you was enough of a sex talk between us about you.” She agreed, and then he winced as well. She took a breath, and then said, “I know I’ve joked around before, but I promise not to… I won’t ever force you to do something you don’t want to. You know that, right?”

“Oh, Buffy.” He leaned in again and hugged her, tightly, tucking his face against the curve of her neck. He laughed a little, but it didn’t exactly sound like amusement. “In a normal circumstance I think it would be the older man saying that to the younger woman.”

“When have we ever been normal?” Buffy replied lightly, her own chuckle humorous.

“We have our moments,” He teased gently, lifting his head without pulling away from her. The look in his eyes took her breath away.

“Giles?” She asked quietly. “If you kiss me right now, I promise not to get too handsy.”

He tilted his head to the side and smiled, almost sort of sad in a way, though he was smiling again.

“I’m sorry I must be giving you mixed messages, but I assure you, I will never have a problem with you getting too handsy… except, perhaps, if we were in public… or, in the middle of fighting a demon… or, uh, if I’m- I’m only wearing a robe- ”

Buffy grabbed onto the straps of his suspenders and yanked him against her, interrupting his ramble, and his arms tightened around her immediately as he returned her kiss deeply.

Eventually, she had to break it so she could catch her breath. He lowered his mouth to her jaw, and her neck, peppering soft and lingering kisses against her skin.

“I love you, God, I love you. Never doubt that,” He murmured between his kisses, fervent.

“The way you touch me… the way you kiss me,” She breathed out, stroking a hand through his hair again. “How you look at me - of course I know, Giles. And yeah, there’s nothing like hearing those words - especially from you - but you know? There’s nothing like the way you look at me, either.” He kissed her neck harder, for a moment, and she realized she could feel wetness against her skin that wasn’t from his mouth. She slid her hands to his jaw to force his face up out of hiding, and softly kissed his tears away. “Never doubt that I love you, too.” She told him directly, making sure he was looking into her eyes as she spoke. “Even when I’m… impatient.” She added lightly, and he chuckled, and nuzzled against her right hand.

  
They kissed again, softly, and  _ that _ was perfect enough in Buffy’s book.


	16. Chapter 15 (Living Conditions, The Harsh Light of Day)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kathy was hilarious in Living Conditions, but alas she doesn’t exist here. And neither does Parker… exactly… yet… But we still have our usual nefarious demons and up-to-no-good vampires!

Giles’ door was locked, but his mail was still in the box so Buffy fingered through it while she waited for him. Maybe he’d gone to the bakery for some doughnuts or something.

“Boring… boring… bill… bill…” Nothing from the Council, at least, which relieved her. She figured if he ever got anything important from them, he’d tell her, but she wanted to make sure they weren’t harassing him or anything. The magazine amused her, though.

Just as she reached the patio table and set his mail atop it, she heard Giles’ heavy breathing and looked up as he skipped down the steps into the courtyard. She eyeballed him as he greeted her with an indistinguishable grunt, and then bent over to rest his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

“You run?” She wondered dubiously. She’d only ever seen him run either toward or away from a demon. She didn’t know he did it as like, a hobby.

“And jump.” He straightened as he nodded at her. “And bend.” He leaned back over, sweat soaking his hair and his t-shirt.

She wrinkled her nose as she glanced over his attire again. Why in the world did he _choose_ to workout in sweatpants and a hoodie in _autumn_? The fact the jacket was unzipped probably hardly helped him.

“And, occasionally, frolic.” He sassed as he straightened again. His skin was flushed and sweaty too, and Buffy stared in the vicinity of his chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice her own slight flush in response.

“Okay… and, uh, what’s with _Motorbike and Scooter_ magazine?” She teased, holding said magazine aloft.

“Congratulations, you found me out. I’m a mod jogger.” He snarked, snatching his mail from her hands and giving her a look. She made an innocent expression.

“I didn’t open anything.” She promised. “Just making sure there wasn’t anything from the Council in there.”

“Buffy, my communications with the Council have been and continue to be none of your concern,” He chided her lightly, but seriously, and she gave him a serious look in return as she propped her hands on her hips.

“It is my concern if they’re harassing you!”

He tilted his head at her curiously, setting his mail on the table and picking up the bottle of water there, screwing open the cap.

“Why would you think they’re harassing me?” He wondered, and she raised her eyebrow. “Well, alright,” He let out a heavy breath before taking a long drink of water. After swallowing, he said, “But the Council is not harassing me, I can assure you. In fact, I haven’t heard a word from them. It’s quite nice actually.” He smiled to himself, picking up the small towel draped over one of the chairs and rubbing it against his neck and the back of his head.

“You’re not… having one of those midlife things, are you?” Buffy worried, mildly distracted by his hair sticking up all over the place. “‘Cause I’m still dealing with the last time you tried to recapture your youth.”

“Buffy.” Giles warned her dryly, and she half smiled. That was one of those things they’d sort of silently agreed never to talk about.

“Sorry.” She sat down in one of the chairs to put a little distance between them, and he sat on the edge of the small fountain. “I came over to see if you wanted to get in a little early morning training before classes and work, but I guess you’re already worked out…” She glanced over his body again, appreciative of his white tee. It was because he was sweaty that it was damp and almost see-through, but that was also what kept her from approaching him any closer. She didn’t want to get her dress all gross before school.

“Well,” He paused as he guzzled more water, and then wiped the towel thoughtfully against the front of his neck and his collarbone. “There are a number of techniques you could still work on without my active input… I can observe and correct as needed.”

“You just wanna watch,” Buffy stuck her tongue out at him, and his eyes sparkled for a moment.

“I am a Watcher… as you say.” He drawled, and she swallowed down the little shiver against her spine.

“There’s always Tai Chi, I suppose.” She mused, and he nodded as he got to his feet and gathered his mail again before leading the way toward his door.

“Give me some time to recover and we can work on targeting sparring, as well.” He told her as he fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Buffy was silent as she followed him inside, but she soon couldn’t resist saying,

“I’m seriously trying everything I got not to make a refractory period old guy joke right now.”

“My self-esteem thanks you.” Giles replied, his tone drier than ever as he tossed his mail on his desk and the bottle and towel on the high counter. He went around to the kitchen to stick his head beneath the sink and rinse off a little as Buffy laughed and went upstairs to get her change of clothes.

Hearing the water splashing, she decided it would be easier to just change where she was and did so quickly, trying not to look too hard at her dress lying on the corner of his bed. One of these days…

When she joined Giles in his living room, he’d removed his sweatshirt, socks, and sneakers, and mostly dried himself off. His hair was still damp from water, but he’d combed it into a semblance of order and he wasn’t gasping for breath any longer. She helped him move some of the furniture to the side and they quietly began stretching together, both of them already familiar with the routine.

After about a half an hour of quiet Tai Chi, Giles fetched sparring gloves and pads from the duffel bag by his weapon’s chest.

“All recovered, then?” Buffy teased as she drank a little water, and he smirked.

“Ages ago, darling.” He returned, and her grin widened. As soon as she set her glass down, Giles tossed the gloves at her and slipped his hands into the pads. “Basic punches and kicks, remember. We aren’t in the training room.”

“Break _one_ little statue…” Buffy muttered, pouting a little as she secured the velcro around her wrists.

“It was an Egyptian statue of Bast from eleventh century b.c. and you’ve quite likely brought the curse of a cat goddess upon us.” He sassed. “Survived a trip from Cairo, and yet not my bookshelf…”

“But you said your guy repaired it!” Buffy protested, and he softened his gaze to show her he wasn’t actually still angry about it.

“To the naked eye it appears good as- well, not ‘new’, but, as ancient as always I suppose.” He winked at her, gesturing the pads for her to target. “Bastet knows, though.”

“Great. I’ll just stay away from all cats in the future.” Buffy grumbled, squared her feet, and then began throwing punches.

For a few minutes they focused on training, and as Buffy began to fall into her rhythm Giles asked her about her classes.

“Lit has us studying _Of Human Bondage_ , now.” Buffy told him as she spun a kick toward his left hand, and he froze before returning a jab with his right.

“Studying _what_?”

“By W. Somerset Maugham. It’s apparently a favorite of one of my friends who’s in the class. Not enough bondage in it, if you ask me.” She blocked his jab, took advantage of his startled look, and hit him - gently, more or less - in the diaphragm. He grunted and shifted a step back, managing to block her next punch. “It’s not bad, though - all about this guy trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life, falling in love with the wrong people, and eventually deciding to just be happy with what he’s got.” She shrugged. “That’s a familiar story.”

“Is it?” Giles asked, after he’d recovered from his brief short-circuited moment. Buffy looked at him quickly, realizing what she’d alluded, and she quickly added,

“Not in a bad way! I mean, not all of it. I mean, _you_ aren’t a wrong person! And like, I’m learning to be happy being the Slayer. Sure, maybe I’ll figure out how to do something else too, but in the meantime… I’m figuring this part out.” She trailed off and his expression softened. After a quiet moment, he teased,

“Not enough bondage in it for you?”

“Hey!” She protested, blushing as she punched the pad on his right hand without warning, and he grunted and winced, but still smiled. “It’s not like I’m _into_ that sort of thing, I mean, like porn, I’m not… well,” She grimaced a little, “I’m trying to cut back.”

Giles blurted out a surprised laugh, and her blush darkened a shade.

“Can we change the subject please?” She grumbled, and he relented.

“We’d better.” He agreed. He gestured his padded hands, holding them aloft, and Buffy resumed her pattern of punches and kicks. “So, you’re enjoying literature class?”

“Books aren’t so scary,” She admitted, a little twinkle in her eye as she gave him a quick grin. “My boyfriend loves books, anyway, so I figured I should at least find _a few_ that I like, too. So we can conversate.”

He looked immensely pleased, for a moment.

“We do conversate,” He protested, and then winced. “Converse. Plenty.”

“Yeah, about demons and vampires and prophecies - that topic’s gonna get real old in a few years. I’m honestly surprised it hasn’t already.”

“It hasn’t gotten old because it isn’t all that we discuss,” Giles corrected her, swiping over her head for her to duck and follow it with a hard uppercut. “There are movies, and music, and food - I don’t expect you to have entirely the same interests as me, Buffy. _That_ would be boring.”

“But you _really_ love books.” Buffy pointed out, and he lowered his hands for a moment.

“I _really_ love _you_.” He returned, and she lowered her hands as well, then huffed out a breath and smiled.

“Even if I have the curse of an ancient Egyptian goddess on me?” She batted her eyes, and he laughed.

“Well, I’ve learned to tolerate your idiosyncrasies.” He teased.

**— — —**

“What kind of demon runs around putting ooky blood dreams into people’s heads, like some kind of nightmare fairy?” Willow muttered, and Oz reached for her hand, carding their fingers together.

“Well, I’m against it.”

“We should, um, examine your dreams more closely,” Giles suggested to both girls as he leaned forward in his seat, ostensibly putting himself a little bit closer to Buffy as he fiddled his glasses between his fingers thoughtfully. “Determine their meaning.”

“You can read dreams? That’s neat.” Tara commented as she approached the group, sharing a smile of greeting with those that she knew. Giles looked up at her silently, clearly wondering why this stranger had approached them and not wanting to continue the conversation while she was around.

“Giles, Tara.” Buffy introduced. “She was in that, uh, ‘Wicca’ group with Willow.” Giles nodded in understanding - having heard all about that experience from Willow last week - and stood as he put his glasses back on and offered his hand. “This is Giles, he’s my… friend.” Buffy hesitated slightly, and Tara grinned slowly as she shyly accepted Giles’ handshake.

“A special friend,” Tara mused knowingly, reading into Buffy’s stammer.

“Normal friend!” Buffy hurriedly corrected, glancing toward Giles in concern. She could feel the weight of Willow’s gaze as she watched the entire interaction, frowning at Buffy’s jumpiness, and the way Giles noticeably wouldn’t quite look at her directly.

“He’s our grown-up friend.” Willow piped in helpfully, then winced. “Not in a creepy way.”

“Normal friend.” Buffy nodded, feeling like she was nodding too much. “Nothing special about Giles at all. I mean,” She suddenly stared at him, wide-eyed, noticing his eyebrows draw together slightly even as he kept his gaze downward. “Of course Giles is special! He’s- he’s Giles. He’s not- like- um… weird special. He’s normal special.”

Everyone was silent for a beat.

“Riiiight,” Tara smiled again, that quiet knowing look that always set Buffy on edge a little bit - it was as if Tara could _see_ more than what anyone else could see. It wasn’t the first time Buffy’s noticed that look on their new friend. “It’s good to meet you,” She said, still sounding shy even with that _knowing_ in her eyes, “I’m sorry, I have to get to study hall now… see you guys in the caf after?” She wondered softly toward Willow and Oz, who both nodded and smiled. Tara headed off, and Willow’s smile fell away as she raised her eyebrow at Buffy.

“Maybe you guys oughta come up with a cover story.” Willow suggested wryly.

“A cover story?” Buffy repeated, her tone lilting with worry, and Giles quickly lifted his head.

“A cover for what?” He almost demanded.

“Forrrr the Watcher thing?” Willow gave them both a weird look.

“Oh, right.” Buffy immediately relaxed again, as did Giles, and he tugged his glasses from his face as he searched his pocket for his handkerchief.

“Have you two been drinking coffee?” Willow chuckled. “You’re so twitchy!”

Oz just looked at them, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in a hidden smile.

“Why don’t I, um, head to the magic shop and see what I can find out about this ritual you’ve dreamt.” Giles announced as he finished cleaning his glasses and put them back on. “I’m sure there are some texts in inventory that can shed some light on this.” Buffy nodded gratefully and stood.

“I gotta head to class. Thanks, Watcher-mine.” She smiled at him softly and touched her hand against his shoulder for a moment, sliding it across his back as she stepped around his chair to head out of the common area.

“Yes, c-come by the flat after classes are over, I should have something by then.” He replied, returning her smile warmly for a moment.

Buffy felt the gazes of Willow and Oz on them, and hurried off to class before things became too suspiciously fond between them.

**... ... ...**

“I ran into the demon tonight! Made with the pummeling, but he got away again…” Buffy pouted as she held the phone in one hand and toweled off her wet hair with the other. “Too many nights like these and I’m gonna get real feisty.”

“Er… ehm… feisty?” Giles questioned, sounding unsure, and the phone rustled for a moment.

“Slayer’s gotta slay, Giles.” Buffy quoted Faith’s favorite saying, and he cleared his throat.

“Right.” He said awkwardly, and then didn’t say anything for a moment. “Did you get a good look at it this time?” He asked.

“Cloak just like before, but I managed to knock the hood off. Umm, glowy green eyes… oh - and his skin had, like, a super bad fake rub-on tan.”

“…Translate?” Giles requested.

“Orangey?”

“Thank you. Anything else?”

“All I got.” She replied, hanging her towel over the back of her desk chair and carrying the phone back to the bedside table so she could sit on her mattress. “He didn’t say anything, unfortunately, other than the usual ‘grr, argh’.”

“Right…” He hummed again, clearly getting lost in thought, and Buffy waited as she absently thumbed through her literature book. “From what you’ve described, I’m not familiar with the creature, but I’ll couple it with the ritual in your dreams and research it as best I can.” Giles assured her, then said softly, “You’ve done all you can for tonight. Go to bed.”

“What, no dirty talk?” Buffy whined, and she knew he’d sighed, even though she couldn’t hear it over the phone.

“And where is Willow?” He pointed out, and Buffy grinned as she sat back against her pillows.

“Dunno,” She replied innocently. “Not here. I’m all alone in this dorm room… this empty bed…” She sighed longingly. “Wearing…” She trailed off, and held her breath while she waited for Giles’ response, which took a moment.

“W-wearing what?” He wondered lowly, sounding a little longing himself.

“My p.j.’s.” Buffy replied tonelessly. “What do you think? I might share my room with my best friend, but we aren’t _that_ kind of friends.”

“You are a tease.” He informed her blandly.

“Dontcha just love a little bit of that, though?” Buffy smiled knowingly, and he hummed again, a pleased sound.

“Mm, well I’m sure I’ll have some pleasing dreams tonight, should I get any sleep.” He teased back, and Buffy gaped in surprise.

“Oh my God, Giles!” She laughed. “I thought we weren’t doing dirty talk!”

“What?” He sounded confused now. “I… oh, bloody hell, Buffy.” She could _hear_ him rolling his eyes. “I’ll be up doing _research_.”

“Riiiight, that’s what you Watcher-types call it.” Buffy sing-songed, and Giles groaned.

“Goodnight, Buffy.”

“Love you!” She spoke up quickly, before he could hang up, and the line was silent for a moment; just the air of an open line.

“I love you too.” He murmured earnestly, and after they hung up she snuggled beneath her comforter, certain that she couldn’t have creepy scorpion ritual dreams after that.

**... ... ...**

Fortunately, Buffy woke up before her nightmare played all the way through again. Unfortunately, it was to find said nightmare a reality, as one of the girls she recognized from down the hall was looming over her.

Well, what was left of the girl to be recognized. Her face was all gnarly and demon-like, and her eyes glowed green.

“Willow!” Buffy called out in warning, grunting as she shoved the demon away and threw herself off the other side of the bed, putting it between them as she got her bearings.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” The demon smiled, “just you and me tonight. Now let me finish my ritual!”

“What did I ever do to you?” Buffy whined as they traded blows. She was deceptively strong for her slight stature, and Buffy quickly realized that she’d better take this fight seriously.

“I just need to borrow your soul for a bit!” The demon snarled, eventually trapping Buffy against the side of the bed. She snagged the nearby phone from the table, and hauled back and beat Buffy across the head with it, dazing her. It began to ring suddenly, startling them both, and she looked at it for a moment before snarling again and ramming it against Buffy’s skull with even more force than before.

She was surprised when it continued to ring, unaffected by the beating it was giving, and a part of Buffy wondered exactly what this ritual was, that she couldn’t seem to gather her strength or focus. She didn’t feel weak like she had from the Council’s drugs, but she’d lost this fight far more quickly than she’d expected.

The demon forced her hand against Buffy’s jaw until her mouth opened, and Buffy closed her eyes as _something_ \- was that her soul? - poured into the air between them. She hoped that maybe this wouldn’t be permanent, and the gang would be able to find this demon and get Buffy’s soul back to her… if this didn’t kill her. Vampires had their demon to control the soulless body. What did a Slayer have? Was the Power a separate entity, or did it leave along with her?

Oh, God - hopefully the demon wouldn’t get the Slayer’s powers.

Buffy realized she felt a little more clear-headed, and the demon had stumbled back in confusion.

“How did you do that?” She demanded, and Buffy frowned, not sure what had happened. She didn’t feel soulless, though. Before she could say anything, a portal opened up in front of the door and one of the cloaked demons she’d scuffled with earlier stepped through.

They argued back and forth for a minute, and Buffy was still blinking her head clear when she found herself alone in her dorm again. She patted herself down quickly, checking for any injuries or drawings in blood or crawling scorpions, and heaved a sigh of relief as she relaxed. She looked at the abandoned phone, seeming no worse for wear, and she glared at it.

“You gave me a concussion,” She grumbled at it as she picked up and began to dial Giles’ number. “The least you could do is have a crack, or something.” It rang only once before Giles picked up.

“Buffy? Is that you? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I…” She grimaced as she rested back against the side of her bed and rolled her head side to side. “I’m still me, anyway.”

“The incantation worked? Thank God.”

“I have you to thank huh, Magic Man?” She smiled tiredly. “Cool. You know, you cut it a little close there buddy.”

“She’s sassing at me now. She’s alright.” Giles’ voice was a little muffled as he talked to somebody off of the phone, and Buffy huffed but then asked,

“Willow, she’s not here, have you heard- ”

“Not to worry, she’s here with me.” Giles assured Buffy, and she relaxed again. “She helped me with the incantation. You sure you’re alright?”

“Need some good, dreamless sleep.” Buffy replied, and he made a soothing noise.

“I’ll drive Willow back over to the dorm.” He promised. “I won’t have her walking back at this time of night… and you sound a little slurry, Buffy.” He was worried.

“If you need to come check on me to make yourself feel better, come on in,” Buffy sighed as if she were put-out, but she was smiling.

“Um… she says she might… well, I’ll bring along the first-aid.” Giles began to speak toward Willow again, but then finished his sentence to Buffy. “Buffy? Try not to fall asleep before we get there.”

She slowly put the room back in order as she waited on Willow and Giles to arrive, her head still kind of dizzy, especially if she stood up too quickly.

When they did arrive, Willow pushed Giles inside and closed the door behind themselves quickly. Buffy stood by her closet door, having changed into different pajamas, and gave them an odd look.

“I sort of snuck him up here,” Willow explained nervously, locking the door. “I don’t think co-ed dorms mean older guys are still allowed in bedrooms at night.”

“Bummer.” Buffy dead-panned, and then blinked wide-eyed in surprise at herself as Giles thinned his lips warningly.

“The demon was here?” Willow wondered, looking around, not noticing Buffy’s blurt - or at least not putting much behind it.

“She was. Another one came and took her through a portal. Gone now.” Buffy yawned as she sat down on the edge of her bed. “You’re here now. Can I sleep?”

“What happened to the phone?!” Willow exclaimed, staring at it, and Buffy frowned. She was pretty sure it was - oh. It had once been white, hadn’t it? It was heavily smeared with red, now, and Willow slowly lifted her eyes toward Buffy.

“Oh. My head.” Buffy answered calmly.

Giles’ expression immediately drifted into concern and he knelt on the floor in front of Buffy, peering up at her as he set the first aid box on the bed beside her.

“Where did she hit you?” He asked, and she winced.

“Where didn’t she hit me?” She replied. The rest of her body wasn’t too sore - Slayer stamina and healing for the win - but she did have a pretty massive headache.

Giles slid his hand up the back of her neck, carefully cradling the base of her skull as he probed his fingers through her hair. Buffy sighed and smiled a little, enjoying the warmth of his hand. When his palm shifted against her jaw as he felt behind her ear, she leaned the weight of her head into his hand, closing her eyes.

“Buffy’s loopy,” Willow giggled, though she sounded nervous. “Is she okay?”

“A- a bit of a concussion, I’m afraid.” Giles replied, hiding his blushing cheeks by keeping his focus toward Buffy. “Buffy,” He called out softly, and she opened her eyes.

“Huh?”

“You don’t seem to have any open wounds any longer, but I’d like you to take some pain medication.” He explained, and slowly removed his hand from her. She sighed, but straightened her head and carefully nodded. “And- and Willow, I’m afraid to ask, but, she’ll need to be woken up a few times during the night, just to make sure the concussion isn’t too severe.” Giles informed the other girl as he got up and opened up the first aid box to get a bottle of pills out. “If, um, if that’s too much I could- I could bring her back to my home,”

“Silly - you could stay here!” Buffy told him, giving him a sideways smile. “Watch me sleep. Watcher.” She grinned, her eyes coy, and Giles cleared his throat, halfway glancing in Willow’s direction before replying,

“I don’t think that- that would be a-appropriate.” He shook out a couple of pills into his palm and held them out to her. “Given that it would be far m-more difficult for me to- to sneak out of here in the morning, and- and Willow had a point about- about… propriety.”

“Pooper.” Buffy grumbled, accepting the pills and the glass of water that Willow grabbed from her computer desk.

“Don’t worry Giles, I got this.” Willow nodded assuredly. “Anyway, I’ve got some more studying to do so I’ll probably be up all night either way.”

“Thank you.” He murmured, closing up the first aid, and he gave Buffy one more lingering look. “Call me in the- the morning, once you’re feeling better?”

“Ten-four, Magic Man.” Buffy saluted him with her free hand, and he gave Willow a wry look.

“Do try not to take anything she might say right now to heart… she’s quite disoriented.”

“I am not!” Buffy protested. She felt fine, really, other than the dizziness. The pain meds, or probably her Slayer healing, were already kicking in too, so the headache didn’t feel as nasty.

“Giles?” Willow asked hesitantly, and he paused before opening the door. “Do you mind… um, taking this out to the dumpster when you go?” She used a corner of the tissue box to nudge the bloodied phone into the trash can, and then unplugged the cord from the wall before scooping out the bag from the can and tying it closed.

“Certainly.” Giles accepted the bag with a soft expression, and glanced once more toward Buffy before slipping out the door.

Buffy sighed heavily, and crawled up to her pillows.

“Was it cool?” She asked, and Willow paused digging through her bookbag.

“The… blood?” She grimaced. “Not really. I mean, I’m not super squeamish but knowing that was _your_ blood… there was a lot, Buffy.”

“Not that, the spell thing.” Buffy waved her hand vaguely through the air, her eyes drooping closed. “Whatever you two did to keep my soul inside my own body.”

“It was… pretty cool.” Buffy could hear the grin in Willow’s voice. “Kind of simple, really. Just some candle lighting and phrase quoting. Giles did the talking and the rune drawing - he’s best at that. But I held the book for him, and lit the candles at the right time!”

“Thanks, Will.” Buffy sighed happily, _now_ totally sure she’d be in for peaceful dreams tonight… well, if she was able to sleep that long. “My Wicca Pal and my Magic Man. What would I do without you guys? I’d be dead, that’s what. You guys are the best.”

“Aw, thanks Buffy. But, Xander too, right? And Oz?”

“Oh, definitely. My Scoobies.”

“Get some sleep, Buffy.” Willow sounded amused, now. “I’ll wake you in a few hours to check on you, okay?”

**... ... ...**

“I didn’t… say anything, uh, weird, did I?” Buffy asked hesitantly the following night, as she and Willow meandered across campus together. “When I was all concussy?”

“No, not really.” Willow replied, but then snorted and giggled a little. “I think you thought the sun shone out of Giles’ ass, though.”

“What?” Buffy wondered incredulously, and Willow grinned and nodded.

“You kept calling him, ‘Magic Man’,” She ‘ooed’, and then laughed again, and Buffy groaned and elbowed her.

“Was he still _there_ when I did?” She asked, and Willow nodded again, laughing even harder at Buffy’s louder groan.

“It was adorable, I swear!” Willow cried out as she defended herself against Buffy’s half-hearted swats. “You were all lovey about all of us!”

“Oh, how _cute_.” A familiar harsh English accent interrupted them, drawling as boots stepped out of the shadows behind them. “Save any of that love for little ol’ me?”

“Spike!” Buffy growled, suddenly focused, and she leapt at him. He fought her back and then held his hand out to stop her before she jumped him again.

“Hold it!” He huffed. “I’m not here for you, Slayer.”

“And since when have I cared what you were around for?” Buffy snarked back, holding her fists up. In her peripheral, she was glad to see that Willow had pulled her wooden cross out of her bag and held it tightly in both hands.

“Me and Harm were just out for an evening bite,” He whined, holding his arm out for the woman to duck out of the bushes and against his side. Buffy blinked, and then guffawed as she lowered her hands.

“ _Harmony_ ?” Buffy snorted, and glanced at Willow. “ _Spike_ is the boyfriend she mentioned?” She laughed again, and both vampires growled. “Aw, what’s the matter, Spike?” Buffy quieted her laughter, though she couldn’t stop smiling in amusement. “Dru dump you again?”

He shoved away from Harmony and reached for Buffy, trading a few blows before Buffy kicked him back a few feet.

“Maybe I dumped her!” He shouted, shifting forward to swing another punch, which Buffy blocked.

“She left him for a fungus demon. That’s all he talks about most days.” Harmony announced, rolling her eyes, and both Buffy and Spike hesitated their continued attack.

“ _Harm_!” Spike growled in annoyance, turning toward her. She made a face, and he stalked closer. “We are going.” He warned her, then glanced back angrily toward Buffy. “It isn’t time, yet.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at his threatening tone, taking a step back not to be further from him, but to be protectively closer to Willow.

“Yeah!” Harmony spat. “But as soon as we have the gem of Amara, you’re gonna be so - ”

Spike whirled back toward her and shouted loudly in anger, indistinguishable as he grabbed her arm and dragged her off.

Buffy and Willow stood quietly for a moment.

“Well.” Buffy slowly let her amusement fade away, and tucked her stake back into her pocket. Willow hid the cross away as well. “That was… enlightening.” Willow nodded in agreement.

“We should get back to the dorm, call Giles.” She suggested, and Buffy nodded as well.

“Seemed like Spikey-boy didn’t want us to know about his little jewelry interest.” She agreed.

**... ... ...**

“Yeah, Spike with Harmony, if you can believe it.” Buffy had to repeat that part, and Giles chuckled. She grinned. “That’s what I said. Anyway, I couldn’t figure out why he just ran away, but Harmony said something, why they were here. They were looking for the gem of something…” Buffy glanced up as Willow caught her attention from across the room, and mouthed something. Buffy squinted at her, but then realized what she was saying and remembered, “Um, Amara.”

“The gem of Amara? Are you sure?” Giles asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” Buffy recognized his tone of voice. He’d heard of it before. “What’s up?”

“Um, well, it uh, it’s just, it’s so… not real.” He sounded a bit amazed. “It’s like the vampire equivalent of the uh, the Holy Grail. A source of some… enormous power, which is conveniently vague.” He finished his statement dryly, and she heard the phone shift and the sounds of him flipping through book pages. “Uh… I think… Here it is. Yes.”

Buffy gestured Willow to sit next to her on her bed, and held the phone where they could both listen in as Giles read aloud,

“There was a great deal of vampiric interest in locating the gem during… oh, the tenth century.” Apparently that was curious. He continued, “Questing vampires combed the Earth, but no one found it. It was concluded that it never existed.”

“Well, Spike seems to think it exists,” Buffy replied, “and he’s looking in Sunnydale.”

“I’ll see what else I can find.” Giles assured her. “Are you feeling better after yesterday?”

“Oh yeah, right as rain as you Brits say.” Buffy nodded, nudging Willow away as she grinned and kept mouthing ‘Magic Man’ at her. She nudged at Willow harder, who snorted out a giggle and bounced over onto her own bed, finally leaving Buffy alone.

“Are you… sure?” Giles checked, probably hearing something from Buffy’s fuss with Willow.

“Yeah, fine, Willow’s just teasing me.” Buffy grumbled.

“About what? Wh- what did you say?”

“Nothing too crazy.” Buffy assured him, glancing toward Willow again. “I’ll uh, let you get to your reading, Watcher-mine.”

“I’ll ring you when I’ve found something.” He promised softly.

Buffy hung up the phone, got ready for bed, and was snuggling in with her light turned off when Willow lifted her nose out of her textbook and giggled again.

“Magic Man.”

“If you tell Xander about that, I’m getting a new roommate.” Buffy threatened, and Willow snickered.

**... ... ...**

Buffy made sure her towel was still secure around her chest as she loosened the one in her hair and shook out her wet locks, toeing the door closed behind her before stepping closer to her bed and tossing the hair towel onto it.

“Um, g-good morning.”

“Giles!” Buffy exclaimed in surprise, whirling around to find him sitting at Willow’s computer desk, Willow standing near the wall beside him. “I- I didn’t know you were here.” She quickly pushed her wet hair back behind her ear and held onto the front of her body towel, making sure it had zero opportunity to fall loose.

“Clearly.” He blinked, looking a bit overwhelmed, and pulled his glasses off of his face while Willow meanwhile made a typing gesture at the computer, and then gave her two thumbs up.

Buffy gave her a look of annoyance, and then smiled awkwardly at Giles, her heart still apparently unable to restart in her chest. Giles was in her room and she was wearing _a towel_. She flushed immediately, and for a brief moment his eyes flickered down toward her feet before shifting back up to meet her eyes.

Buffy stared at him, unblinking, and the corner of his mouth quirked upward just slightly. His eyes were a little darker than usual now, glinting with appreciation, and Buffy swallowed, wishing Willow weren’t standing behind him.

No one moved or said anything for a minute.

“Giles found something!” Willow blurted excitedly.

“Y- yes, a- a- a text.” He quickly tucked his glasses back on and turned back toward the desk, focusing down on the book there. “It refers to the, to the gem of Amara as- as residing in the ‘valley of the sun’.”

“Demon fancy talk for Sunnydale.” Willow added helpfully.

“It- it seems that Spike may know what it’s about. The gem may exist after all - in Sunnydale, in a- a sealed underground crypt.” Giles looked back toward Buffy, and she forgot for a moment her clothing situation, as she decided a plan.

“Why don’t you guys try and locate the crypt, and I’ll see if I can find Spike before he gets there.” Buffy paused, and Giles nodded as he quickly stood from Willow’s desk chair and gathered his book and jacket. Buffy and Giles stared at one another awkwardly for a moment, and Buffy carefully resituated her grip on the front of her towel.

“I’ll call Xander and Oz, have them meet at your place.” Willow spoke up, eyeing the both of them for a moment.

“Right.” Giles agreed, and then nodded, and then turned for the door. He bounced it off the toe of his shoe when he first opened it, and had to reach for it again before hurrying out of the room.

Willow closed the door behind him, then gave Buffy a look.

“Well. That could’ve been more awkward.” She commented, and then apologetically winced. “Sorry. I didn’t expect him to show up while you were in the shower, and he wanted me to look something up for him; I didn’t really have any way to warn you.”

“Well… we’re even now, I guess.” Buffy mused, hoping her flush wasn’t too obvious, and went to her closet to get her change of clothes.

“ _Even?!_ ” Willow exclaimed, amazed, and Buffy grimaced, chagrined she’d let that out. “You saw _Giles_ in a _towel_?”

“No!” Buffy insisted, trying to picture that lovely idea in her mind. “But… his robe.” She admitted, and Willow blinked widely. “Which might as well have been a towel, in his mind.”

“Poor Giles.” Willow conceded. “Was he embarrassed?”

“Um… that’s one way to put it.” Buffy replied vaguely. “Please don’t tell anyone about that? Giles would kill me if he found out anyone else knew.”

“All towel and robe incidents have been purged from my mind.” Willow vowed, holding a hand up into the air. Buffy grinned wryly, and then quickly changed into appropriate vampire fighting attire, as Willow picked up their new phone to call the rest of the gang to assemble.

**... ... ...**

Buffy grimaced as she shifted the bag of frozen peas against her side. Xander had the ice-pack against his own ribs, but at least neither of them had any broken bones.

“It’s smaller than I expected.” Oz commented, as they all sat strewn around Giles’ living room furniture, staring at the solitary ring resting on the coffee table.

“Really worth getting my ribs bashed in.” Xander snarked.

“It’s obviously very dangerous, and we’re destroying it.” Giles announced, tiredly removing his glasses from his face.

“We don’t destroy it.” Buffy disagreed, and they all looked at her.

“…Buffy, any vampire that gets his hands on this is going to be… essentially un-killable.” Giles pointed out, and she looked at him directly. After a moment, he realized what she was thinking, his eyes wide and bright. “Oh.”

Buffy pressed her lips together, apologetic, and ducked her head. Angel still wasn’t the best of topics to bring up with Giles. Buffy didn’t want to hurt him, but… she knew that Angel was still important for their fight against badness. If she could help him in some way, then she would.

The others were silent for a moment, until Oz softly offered,

“I have that gig in L.A. I could swing by.”

“Thanks, Oz.” Buffy whispered, glancing up toward him with a brief grateful smile before she looked toward Giles and then ducked her head again.

“What’s going on?” Xander wondered, not catching it. “What’s in L.A.?”

“She’s giving the ring to Angel. Don’t make a fuss.” Willow told him quietly, as if she didn’t want to interrupt what was going on between Buffy and Giles, as if she understood what was going on.

“Buffy, are you sure?” Giles asked her in a murmur, and she nodded as she slowly met his eyes again.

“He should have it.”

Giles pursed his lips and looked down at the ring on the table. Eventually, he nodded once as well, accepting the decision, and then he stood and disappeared into his kitchen. Buffy heard the noise of the tea kettle being prepared, and she looked at the others.

“Do you guys mind…?”

“Sure thing, Buff.” Willow gave her a small smile as she got to her feet, and Oz followed. He calmly picked up the ring and slipped it into his pocket, giving Buffy one more nod before he stepped over to help Xander up from his seat on the floor. “And tell Giles I’m sorry about this morning? For not warning him, you know…” Willow whispered for only Buffy to hear, and she nodded, following the other three as far as the door, to lock it behind them.

She picked up Xander’s abandoned ice-pack and returned it and her make-shift one to the freezer, then stood silently at the entrance to the kitchen, watching Giles go through his tea-making ritual. His glasses had been left on the counter, and he’d pulled out the caffeinated box instead of the soothing herbal he usually preferred this time of the night.

“Not planning on much sleep?” Buffy guessed, and he jumped slightly.

“Buffy.” He sounded even more tired than he had earlier. “I thought you’d all left.”

“The others did.” She told him, stepping into the kitchen and leaning against the edge of the counter, not quite within arms reach of him. Close, but not crowding. “Giles, it’s not a symbol of anything.”

“I rather think that it is.” He sighed, hesitated over the box of tea, and then exchanged it for decaf. He closed the cabinet a little harder than necessary, and gripped the edge of the counter after he’d set the decaf box down. His fingers were shaking slightly.

“And _he_ thinks that _this_ is a symbol,” Buffy informed him pointedly, stepping closer and grabbing his right arm, holding his hand against the nape of her neck, beneath her hair. Giles froze for a second, but then his fingers relaxed against her neck. Mostly sure he wouldn’t pull away, Buffy let him go to slide her hand along his left arm, pushing the rolled sleeve of his henley up even further until she could get her fingers on the spot where she knew his matching tattoo would be.

“Of course it is.” Giles sighed sadly. “For Eyghon.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head. “It’s useless to that demon now. It means nothing to him. But to me?” She paused, and rubbed her fingers softly against his skin. “Angel was right. It does mean something to me.”

“A harrowing memory of Ethan holding you captive and forcing you to summon a demon for him to kill me?” Giles raised his eyebrow, and Buffy narrowed hers slightly at his obstinance.

“No. It’s something we both have. We match.” When his brow relaxed, she added, “These tattoos mean nothing to anyone else anymore; Ethan doesn’t even have his anymore, he burned it off. I know yours has a lot of history and you’ve kept it as a reminder of that but I… I’m happy to still have mine because it reminds me of you.” She took a breath, trying not to feel too shy about the way his eyes softened. “I know I can’t actually see it myself without a couple of mirrors, but all I gotta do is touch my neck there… I know it’s there.” With her free hand she touched the back of his knuckles.

Giles blinked at her, then slowly guided her to turn around, and swept her hair over her shoulder, off her neck. He rubbed his thumb along the line of vertebrae for a minute, and then she felt his warm, wet mouth, tender against her skin. Buffy shivered, and then relaxed, and he slid his mouth forward around the side of her neck, covering the barely-visible scar left by the Master. She leaned her weight back against him, revelling in his warmth, and he slipped his arms around her waist, holding her as he gently nibbled and sucked against her throbbing pulse.

“Giles,” She sighed longingly, tilting her head to the side to give him more room, and his arms tightened around her as he trapped her against the counter, his teeth a little harder against her skin as his hips pressed against her ass. Buffy moaned as she rubbed against him, wanting him hard, wanting him as suddenly and breathtakingly aroused as she was.

Giles used his body to bend her over the counter, biting her now, not enough to break skin but a little wild, recklessly forming a hickey on her neck. She trembled and moaned again, but the sudden sharp sting across her ribs made her gasp, and he immediately lifted his head at her tone.

“Damn,” She winced before he could even ask, his breath heavy near her ear, and she pushed up against him, guiding him to straighten up and stand back. He shifted enough for her to straighten as well and twist around to face him, but his expression was still dazed and full of desire. She pressed her palm against her side and his eyes finally cleared, and he took a step out of her space, clearing his throat.

“Are you alright?” He asked, out of breath, mild embarrassment taking over his features along with concern.

“Probably not a good idea to be making out while I’ve got massively bruised ribs.” Buffy grimaced, steadying her own breath, and he reached forward to gingerly rest his palms on either side of her ribcage now, careful.

“I’m sorry.” He licked his lips and cleared his throat as his mind cleared. “I, um…”

“Got a little carried away?” She quirked her brow at him, and he half-smiled, apologetic. The sharp pain in her side drifted away, and she lifted her hand to his cheek, stroking her thumb near his mouth. “I mostly didn’t mind.” His eyes darkened a little again as she slowly slid her thumb along his bottom lip.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth around it and nipped her, startling a yelp out of her, and she smacked his chest as he let go of her thumb and grinned. She narrowed her eyes at him, and gripped the front of his henley.

“ _You_ don’t have bruised ribs.” She growled, yanking him close as he opened his mouth to question her, kissing his chest beneath the opened buttons of his shirt. He slid his hands up to her shoulders as she slowly kissed across his throat, searching for specific spots that made him quiver, moving one of her hands up until she could feel his chest hair against her fingers.

She latched onto the curve of his neck just above his collarbone, intent on giving him a hickey of his own, and his hands tightened around her shoulders as a groan rumbled through his chest.

Even when he began to moan her name, she didn’t let up until the kettle began to whistle on the stove. Giles stumbled back a step, staring at the boiling water as if it flummoxed him, and Buffy smirked proudly, having to catch her breath a little bit as she turned the stove off herself and shifted the kettle to a cool burner.

No more henleys for Giles the next couple of days, unless he wanted to field questions from the Scoobies.

It was also a bit of self-preservation on her part, too. She wanted him too damn much when he looked rumpled like this.

“I… should head back to the dorm.” Buffy murmured, straightening the end of her blouse. Her announcement seemed to break through his daze a bit, and he visibly swallowed as he slowly began preparing his cup of tea. She thought of Willow, and the looks she’d noticed the red-head had been giving them occasionally. “I think… I think I need to tell Willow, soon.”

“A- are you sure?” He asked, his tone a little lower than normal, making goose-bumps erupt across her skin. She did her best to ignore that.

“She’s gonna find out sooner or later… and since Oz already knows, well, enough - I don’t want him to have to keep on keeping this a secret from his girlfriend.” Buffy pointed out. “Plus, Will’s my best friend. And she’s practically the only one who _doesn’t_ know.”

“Oz? Who else does?” Giles furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he put the tea bag in the pot and turned to face her, leaning his hips back against the counter. Buffy casually took a step away from him, out of reach of the temptation to stand between his feet and - “Buffy?”

“Wesley,” She blurted, shifting her gaze away from the bulge of his jeans. Just saying the other Watcher’s name was enough to curb her arousal. “You know, from when he caught us sleeping in your office that one time…” Giles hadn’t been super happy at first, when Buffy had told him about the ‘deal’ she’d made with Wesley to keep his silence, but fairly quickly after that he’d become less caring about how he interacted with her in front of Wesley, so it hadn’t stayed an issue. “My mom, of course… Oz, who, um, caught us making out one time…”

“What?” Giles raised his eyebrows in surprise, and his face sort of went a little pale too. “When?”

“In the library… he was a werewolf, so I wasn’t even thinking… and there were doughnuts, and you were…” She trailed off, glancing toward him apologetically, and could see the moment he remembered the incident she was talking about. His face turned red, then.

“He remembered what he’d seen as a werewolf…” His embarrassment turned into curiosity, then. “So his control was improving even then,” He mused, impressed, and Buffy shuffled her foot.

“Speaking of that… you remember when we talked about how he’s been able to use some of those wolfy powers in his everyday life, now? Like, his sense of smell?”

“…Yes?”

“Well I think- I mean, he hasn’t said directly, but, he alluded to- I mean, he has… um, er, smelled us on one another.” Buffy finally said, and Giles blinked, momentarily expressionless. “Or, our uh, desire for one another when we’re close. He- he didn’t really specify w-what it was, exactly, he could smell.”

“Bloody hell.” Giles murmured, blushing again.

“Well, he’s been keeping it to himself, anyway.” Buffy shrugged, wanting to move on. It was easy not to often think of what Oz knew, just because of the way Oz was - chill, and accepting. Once he decided something was alright, he never needed to discuss it again. Like Buffy, and her Slayerness. It was one of the things she’d always appreciated about him.

“So…” Giles cleared his throat softly, and checked on the tea. “Oz, your mother, Wesley… Angel.”

“Yeah.” Buffy paused. “Cordelia, I think.” She admitted, and Giles slowly glanced back around to give her a surprised and perplexed look. “Turns out she’s not off in her own world as much as we think she is,” Buffy shrugged half-apologetically. “I don’t really know what she thinks, but I’m pretty sure she thinks L.A. wasn’t just some demon-hunting extravaganza.”

“But we weren’t together, then.” Giles pointed out.

“No,” Buffy admitted slowly, “but we were by prom.” He furrowed his brow, unsure.

“You think Cordelia Chase noticed something outside of her immediate vicinity… during the prom?” He asked dubiously.

“She had that brief… thing… with Wesley. I think maybe she just recognized something.” Buffy took a breath. “Anyway, then there’s Faith, who’s been making jokes about us ‘doin’ the horizontal tango’ almost since she first showed up. I haven’t really told her anything but she might’ve overheard a conversation I had with Angel once…”

“You talked with Angel about having sex with me?” Giles blurted incredulously, and Buffy grimaced.

“God, no. I was kind of too worried at the time that he was gonna kill you in your sleep, remember? I barely wanted to talk about you in any context, around him. Anyway, he had just… he’d noticed some things and I’d cleared up the Cruciamentum and all that with him. He’s actually the one who… who encouraged me not to stop fighting for you.” Buffy shyly met Giles’ gaze, smiling a little. “Against the Council, against whoever. He used my own words against me, that there are things in this world worth fighting for, to basically assure me that he _wasn’t_ going to off you and he was accepting of us.”

“I… didn’t know the two of you had had this discussion.” Giles admitted, sounding touched.

“I figured you guys had one like it,” Buffy replied in surprise, “the way you were when I had the telepathy thing.”

“I… I had told him that he still loved you.” Giles admitted quietly, and added as Buffy frowned, “And he’d replied, ‘so do you’. Calmly, straight-forward. No anger, or resentment, or… he just wanted to help save you. So… yes, I suppose we had.” Buffy smiled gently, and Giles returned it before focusing back on the tea and preparing a cup for himself. “Would you like a cup, before you go?” He offered, and she considered it for a moment.

“No,” She finally sighed, her gaze lingering on his jean-clad behind. “If I stay here much longer I’m gonna- ” She cut herself off and stepped further out of the kitchen. “Anyway, basically Xander and Willow are the only two who _don’t_ know and I think they’re the two that _should_. They’re my best friends.”

“I understand.” He murmured as he stirred cream into his tea, choosing not to comment on her unfinished sentence. “Frankly, I’m a bit amazed they haven’t suspected anything, after the summer.”

“Well, Xander…” Buffy hesitated, and Giles raised his eyebrows in surprise, the spoon in his hand pausing.

“ _Xander_ figured it out before _Willow_?” He wondered in disbelief, and then told her, “You should definitely tell Willow, perhaps tonight. She might be hurt that she doesn’t know.”

“Xander thought I had a crush, last year. I don’t think he still does…” Buffy trailed off, not totally sure about that. But knowing Xander, wouldn’t he have commented on it by now? Then again, he seemed to have matured quite a bit after his short jaunt East and back - maybe, like Oz, he’d just quietly accepted it… Buffy snorted. Unlikely.

“Let- let me know, when you do?” Giles requested softly. “So that I have some warning for the likelihood of our friends barging into my flat unannounced?”

“Don’t they do that anyway?” Buffy teased, and he sipped his tea as he set the spoon down on the counter, rolling his eyes.

“Not with the intent of possibly beheading me.”

“They’re not going to behead you, Giles.” Buffy promised him wryly. “My mom even approves, remember?”

“And I’m still waiting for her to come to her senses and make good on her threat of castration.” He replied, and Buffy snorted.

“Don’t worry, Giles,” She grinned slowly, widely. “I’ll keep both your heads safe and sound.” He spurted out the tea he’d been drinking and coughed, and Buffy laughed as she headed for the door. “See you later!” She called out cheerily, before he could clear his throat enough to say anything.

She wondered if she should have mentioned that Angel’d had a front row seat to a steamy dream about her and Giles… she shrugged to herself as she strolled happily across the courtyard and out onto the sidewalk. Maybe she should wait to talk about that dream until she’d be able to tell it to him in detail… she grinned as a small shiver of arousal ran up her spine. Yeah, she’ll hold tight to that dream for now, and save it for when she could have some fun with it.


	17. Chapter 16 (Fear, Itself)

“I don’t know. I was going for ferocious-scary, but it’s coming out more dryly sardonic.” Xander mused.

“It does appear to be mocking you with its eyeholes.” Willow commented, glancing over.

“Yet its nosehole seems sad and full of self-loathing.” Oz added, and Xander sighed.

“What do you think, Buff?” He wondered, turning his pumpkin creation around to face her.

“I was just thinking about the life of a pumpkin.” She played her fingers through the four-pumpkins-worth bowl of goopy insides. “Grow up in the sun, happily entwined with others… and then someone comes along, cuts you open, and rips your guts out.” She lifted out a glob of seeds and guts, letting it slop back into the bowl noisily, and the others grimaced hesitantly.

She wasn’t sure what it was that had made her all broody, but now she was starting to feel like a debbie-downer.

“Okay… and on that happy note,” Xander turned his pumpkin back around to face him, and then got to his feet, announcing, “I got a treat for tomorrow night’s second annual Halloween screening.” He went toward his bag, abandoned on one of the counter seats, and Giles poked his head around from the kitchen curiously. “People, prepare to have your spines tingled and your gooses bumped by the terrifying - ” He thrust out a VHS into the air, and then frowned at it. “Fantasia. … _ Fantasia _ ?”

“Maybe it’s because of all the horrific things we’ve seen, but hippos wearing tutus just don’t unnerve me the way they used to.” Oz drawled.

“ _ Phantasm _ ,” Xander insisted, “It was supposed to be Phantasm. Stupid video store.” He pouted down at the movie in his hands.

“I thought we were doing that Alpha Delt thing.” Willow commented, eyeing her pumpkin critically.

“What… thing?” Xander wondered.

“The scary house?” Buffy checked, and when Willow nodded, she shrugged as she wiped her hand off on the nearby towel and decided if she wanted to do anything else to her pumpkin. “Sounded kinda lame…”

“It actually borders on fun,” Oz replied. “You have to go through the whole scary house maze to get to the party. Which is usually worth getting to. Those guys go all out.”

“As witnessed last Friday,” Willow grinned at her boyfriend.

“Very true.” He smiled back.

“There’s a party?” Xander wondered, and Willow paused messing with her creation.

“We didn’t tell you?” She winced, and Xander hesitated before shrugging it off.

“Nah, it’s cool. You guys got your little college thing. I’m fine. I mean, I got better things to do than tag along to some  _ fraternity _ .”

“You could help me pass out candy,” Giles offered happily from the kitchen, just before Willow offered,

“You can come.”

“Kay. But only because I lied about having better things to do.” Xander answered Willow immediately, and Giles huffed and snarked something that made Buffy grin, but the others didn’t hear it.

“Laughs will be had by all,” Oz promised and, happy with the state of her pumpkin, Buffy got to her feet and padded into the kitchen.

“We agreed to help you decorate, Giles,” Buffy teased of his snark, “is that not enough for you?”

“If there’s no one here to stop me, I’ll eat all the candy myself.” He grumbled, almost pouting about it, and Buffy smiled in amusement.

“Most people only feel bad about that  _ after _ the fact, when they’re curled up on the couch with a stomach ache and a puke bucket.”

“Ah, somehow I think you speak from experience,” Giles mused, his eyes glinting with humor, and Buffy grimaced in memory.

“The fall of 1987, Winnie the Pooh. I haven’t had licorice since.”

“I bet you were adorable.” Giles smiled warmly, completely missing the horror in her voice.

“With blue puke expelling violently from my insides? I don’t think so.” Buffy shuddered deeply, and his soft expression flickered with a wince.

“Somehow I get the feeling the neighbors will at least have plenty of blue candy to choose from, regardless whether or not I’m left alone with the bowl.” His mouth turned down in distaste and Buffy smiled, patting his elbow fondly.

“Anything I can do to help.” She bumped her shoulder lovingly against his arm, and then peered at the stove. “How’s the cider coming along?”

“Almost finished,” He replied, glancing over toward the living room before leaning over to brush his lips against her cheek. “Any hints for your costume, this year?” He asked, his tone a little flirty, and she raised her eyebrow even as she smiled with pleasure at his gesture.

“I was thinking Catwoman? You know, full leather skin-suit, eye mask, fuzzy ears…” She gave him a dry look as his eyes unfocused, clearly envisioning her in such an outfit. She elbowed him again, this time against his ribs hard enough to make him grunt and refocus on the world around him. “I was actually thinking I would patrol… you don’t think I should?”

“G-generally creatures of the night shy away from Halloween,” He admitted. “They find it all much too crass.”

“…Hard to believe.” She commented wryly. “So, do I get any hints then? You can’t hand out candy without a costume.”

“It’s festive! And that’s all I’ll say.” He replied, focusing back toward the cider on the stove, and giving it a stir.

“Festive?” Buffy repeated with a dubious smirk. “Now I’m worried.” He huffed, and she let him off the hook as she began pulling down glasses from the upper cabinet.

They poured out everyone’s drinks, sneaking one more quick kiss before carrying the glasses together to the living room, and the other three excitedly began showing off their pumpkin carvings to Giles.

Buffy watched her friends as she quietly drank her cider, feeling a little less mopey. Maybe it was just like, a seasonal depression or something. Things with Giles were fine (she was pretty sure), classes were going okay, patrols hadn’t been super hard… maybe she just wasn’t used to her life being this mediocre. She hoped that didn’t mean some big bad was coming around the corner.

**... ... ...**

“Thanks again for doing this at the last minute.” Buffy told her mom, watching as she finished up the final stitch on the machine. Sewing and Buffy never had learned to get along… luckily, Joyce seemed to take back to it easily, even though they’d had to dig the machine out from behind a few dusty boxes in the attic.

“Oh, I’m just glad I could find it.” She replied, cutting the string with a pair of scissors and quickly tying off the little knot with practiced fingers. “There, try it now.” She lifted up the hood and cape and held it out toward her daughter. “I let down the hem and loosened it a little around the hood.”

“Oh, it feels better,” Buffy nodded happily as she draped the red cape around her shoulders.

She hadn’t actually planned on celebrating Halloween at all this year, thinking that she put up with enough spooky things jumping out at her in the dark, but the others had persuaded her. She happened to remember seeing the old red cloak in the attic when she’d been gathering boxes to pack up for school, so she’d called up her mom and requested a quick fix.

When Buffy looked back up, Joyce was watching her with an odd little smile, and Buffy groaned good-naturedly as she shifted the costume piece off and folded it in her hands.

“Oh, no. Someone’s getting nostalgic face.”

“I’m sorry,” Joyce sighed fondly. “I’m thinking about that little girl who wore that.”

“When Little Red Riding Hood was the cutting edge in costumes.” Buffy quipped, making her mom chuckle.

“Oh, your father  _ loved _ to take you out.” Joyce smiled, caught up in memory, as she sat back in her chair. Buffy sat down at the end of the table, fiddling with the hood.

“He was such a pain. Twelve years old and I can’t go trick-or-treating by myself?” Buffy complained with a small smile. They were still sort of happy memories for her, too… for the most part.

“He just wanted to keep you safe.” Joyce pointed out, which they both knew was a little ironic, now.

“No, he wanted the candy.” Buffy replied knowingly. “I was just the beard.”

“That’s not true, actually. The candy was for me.” Joyce informed her seriously, and then grinned. Her smile softened as she said, “Your father loved spending time with you.”

“Not enough, I guess.” Buffy murmured, fiddling with the pull string on the hood.

“Buffy,” Joyce admonished softly.

“Oh I just paved right over memory lane, huh?” She snarked with a wince.

“You know the divorce had nothing to do with you.” Joyce assured her, but Buffy half-shrugged and averted her eyes again.

“I dunno.” She hadn’t even realized this still bothered her so much, until it came up. “I feel like there’s a pattern going, you know? Open your heart to someone, and they bail on you… maybe it’s easier just not to let anyone in.” Joyce furrowed her brow, concern in her features, and Buffy sighed quietly. “I’m… scared that’s gonna happen again.” She admitted. Joyce gave her a long, searching look before speaking again.

“I thought it might be easier. You must’ve noticed that I’m… not exactly the social butterfly that I was when I was with your dad.” Joyce got up and meandered toward the window, gazing out toward the front yard for a moment. “I don’t think I made a single new friend the year we moved to Sunnydale.”

“Why not?” Buffy wondered.

“Fear.” Joyce answered honestly, meeting her eyes again. “I didn’t believe I could trust anyone again. It’s taken time, and a lot of effort, but I’ve got a nice circle of friends now. And so do you.” Buffy smiled a little, and Joyce joked self-deprecatingly, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still a little gun-shy. It certainly didn’t help that my last boyfriend turned out to be a homicidal robot.” They both grimaced and chuckled, and Joyce slipped back into her seat, reaching forward to take Buffy’s hand. “I will always be here for you, and your friends will too. And so will Mr. Giles.”

Buffy blushed a little and ducked her head, and Joyce squeezed her hand encouragingly.

“Believe me. There’s nothing to be afraid of. That man is absolutely besotted with you, Buffy.” Joyce paused when Buffy didn’t exactly look appeased. “Has something happened, honey? To make you think otherwise?”

“I love him.” She whispered. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I thought was  _ possible _ to love anyone.” She hated how her voice trembled. “I’ve doomed us. Because I love him too much.”

“Buffy, you aren’t a jinx.” Joyce promised her, and she had a small smile on her face when Buffy glanced back up toward her. “And I’m sure when you really think about what the two of you have been through these last few years, you’ll remember without a doubt that there is nothing that could make that man leave you.”

Buffy knew she was right, of course, and she sighed softly as she relaxed in her seat, pushing the tension away. Joyce’s face grew somber, again, and she checked,

“Has he said something to you, or done anything- ”

“No, Mom,” Buffy quickly assured her, earnest, “Giles hasn’t done anything at all, he’s wonderful. Don’t hurt him.” Joyce smiled a little, obviously proud that she could still retain protective momma-bear status even for the Slayer. “I just… I don’t know. Got worried.”

“Giving your heart to someone is a scary and brave thing, Buffy.” Joyce said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind Buffy’s ear. “And that’s why I wouldn’t trust just anybody to be in charge of my daughter’s. I meant it, earlier, when I told you that I’ve never seen two people so deeply connected as the two of you.” She gave Buffy a considering, almost awe-like look, and murmured seriously, “I’m not even certain death will do you part.”

“Woah, Mom,” Buffy laughed awkwardly. “Let’s not get anywhere near anything like marriage vows right now, okay?”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Joyce said proudly, pulling away and gathering up her sewing supplies to put them away. “I’d like you to be old enough to drink champagne at your own wedding, at least.”

“ _ Mom _ !”

**... ... ...**

Buffy meandered through the frat house slowly, crossbow at the ready, every one of her senses attuned to the space around her. She’d lost track of all of the others, and the last thing she wanted to do was accidentally shoot one of them.

“They’re just lost,” She muttered to herself. “They haven’t left. They can’t leave, anyway,” She shook her head at herself in annoyance. “There’s no front door.”

After a couple of minutes of walking in what she was sure were only circles, she heard Willow cry out for help. She immediately ran toward the sound of her best friend’s voice, pausing at a corner to wait for another noise before continuing. She wouldn’t be able to help if she just got lost again.

“Oz! Help me!”

“Willow!” Buffy called out, running for the door that she was confident was the right one. It was locked, and she shouldered it twice before crashing through - 

\- and down.

“Unf!” She landed on her back with a grunt and blast of pain, her vision swimming for a moment. Opening her eyes warily, she tried to familiarize herself with her surroundings without moving too much. “Basement. I must be in the basement.”

Grimacing, she pushed herself up onto her hands. She had no idea where her crossbow had tumbled to.

“All alone.” A voice mumbled from the darkness.

“Who said- ” She winced as the stab wound on her back pulled at her skin painfully. “…that?”

A form stepped out from behind one of the pillars, the head hanging sideways unnaturally. Broken.

“They all ran away from you.” He said, his voice gravelly, his eyes dead. Buffy vaguely recognized him as one of the frat guys. “They always will. But don’t fret, little girl.” He smirked. “You’re not alone.”

A hand shot out of the gravelly hard-packed dirt beneath her, grabbing at her arm, and she yelped in surprise, trying to wrench it off. The grip was super-human, and soon a second hand joined it, gripping her arm to pull itself out of the dirt completely, snarling as it loomed over her.

His clothing was ragged and he was caked with dirt, mostly unrecognizable as the face twisted with anger, but the sleeve she grabbed was tweed, and it felt like ice-water flooded through her veins as she kicked him off of her and scrambled back in the gravel. She couldn’t get her shoes steady on the loose ground to stand, and he grabbed her flailing foot, yanking her by the ankle closer to him as he crawled over her.

Logically, she knew it wasn’t Giles, she knew that frat boy was dead and couldn’t be speaking, she knew that none of this was real - but those sharp fangs that glinted at her from behind a too-wide smile made terror crawl up her spine, and she cried out. She punched at his face and kicked him off of her again, twisting around onto her hands and knees and crawling frantically away. She was breathing too fast, panicking, and her vision was still swimmy.

She didn’t want to see - she didn’t want to see…

But there, a door - a tiny door, what was this, Alice in Wonderland now? It didn’t matter at this point. It was a way out of this room, and that was all that mattered to her. She glanced back toward the snarling, zombie-vampire creature behind her, and was actually briefly comforted to see that it looked even less like Giles than it had before.

“Not real. Not real.” She repeated to herself, and shoved with all her might through the door, tumbling through head over feet into… “Upstairs.” She noted with only a small amount of relief. She quickly sat back against the door and slammed it shut behind her, just in case that thing might be able to follow her.

She got to her feet slowly, half-heartedly straightening out the end of her dress as she gazed around the room. There were a few people curled up in places, hugging their knees and rocking, muttering things she couldn’t quite understand. Other than their whimpers, the room was silent, and she found that more eerie than ever.

“Oz?” She recognized him curled up on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and muttering about changing. She approached him slowly, carefully reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Oz. It’s Buffy.”

“Get back!” He shouted, staring up at her in terror, and she jumped, but then his eyes seemed to clear and he immediately unfurled himself and got to his feet. “S-sorry. I uh, thought…”

“It’s okay.” Buffy offered him a hesitant smile. “You’re still Oz.”

“Get em off! Get em off!” Willow suddenly whirled into the room through a door that Buffy was eighty percent sure hadn’t been there a second ago, and they both caught the red-head in their arms, soothing her down until she stood still.

“It’s okay,” Oz comforted her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Buffy stared around the room warily, wondering what was next.

“We’re not okay.” She admitted seriously. “We need to get out of here.”

“I’d offer my opinion, but you jerks aren’t gonna hear it, anyway.” Xander sniped from the chair he was sitting in, and Buffy  _ knew  _ she hadn’t seen him there earlier. “Not that didn’t-go-to-college boy has anything important to say. I might as well hang out with my new best friend, bleeding dummy head, for all you dorks care.”

“What is wrong with you?” Buffy wondered, approaching him, and he leapt to his feet in amazement.

“You- you heard that? You can see me?” Buffy stared at him, and he swallowed deeply, his hands shaking. “Good. Oh,  _ God _ , good.” He threw his arms around her suddenly, hugging her tightly as he tucked his head against her shoulder. Buffy grimaced at the pain in her back but carefully returned his hug, for a moment, patting his back.

“The house separated us.” Oz said. “It wanted to scare us.”

She knew they hadn’t really left her.

“But, we got away.” Willow finished with a hopeful smile, but Buffy still felt her spidey-senes going haywire.

“No, we were brought here. We all got so scared that we ended up… here. Why?” She looked around the room again, slowly, wondering what else was going to pop up that hadn’t been there before. She meandered toward the weird drawing on the floor, sensing just by the look of it that it wasn’t as benign as a spooky squiggle.

“I saw them painting that,” Xander recalled, pointing at it as he joined her, his finger still shaking a little bit. “They were copying out of…” He glanced around. “That!” He hurried over to a table and picked up the book that was on it, and the others quickly surrounded him. He immediately handed it off to Willow.

“I- I think it’s Gaelic?”

“Can you translate?” Buffy asked.

“ _ Release me! _ ” Something very evil growled, the voice sounding as if it was coming out of the walls of the house itself, it’s demand repeating and growing more and more angry.

“Will, give me something!” Buffy urged.

“Okay, um…” Willow scanned the page quickly. “The- the icon’s called the M- Mark of Gachnar. I- I think this is a summoning spell for something called…”

“Gachnar?” Xander put in.

“Well, yes. Somehow, the beginning of the spell m-must have been triggered. Gachnar’s trying to manifest itself, to come into being.”

“How?” Buffy asked, keeping an eye on the room around them in case that started to happen now.

“It… it feeds on fear.” Willow read, meeting Buffy’s eyes.

“Our fears are manifesting.” Buffy noted, realizing, “We’re feeding it. We need to stop.”

“If we close our eyes, and say it’s a dream,” Xander began hopefully, but then finished, “it’ll  _ stab _ us to death. These things are  _ real _ .”

“Okay… so our fears are feeding it… if we get everyone out of here - ”

All the various doors in the room began slamming suddenly, interrupting Buffy’s suggestion, sounding as if there were armies on the other side demanding to be let in.

“Good plan. Let’s go.” Xander bolted for the one door they knew logically led out into the hall, but before he could reach it, it slammed open. He jerked his body to a halt so fast that his feet kept going and he slipped and fell back onto his ass, gaping up at the form that stepped into the room.

With a chainsaw.

“ _ Giles?! _ ” Xander squeaked, as Giles cut off the whirring blade and looked around. “Hey, everyone, it’s Giles. With a chainsaw.” He sounded as if he were finally losing his mind entirely, and didn’t entirely react at first when Anya appeared around the corner and hurried forward to hug him. “Uh, glad you could make it.”

“The walls closed up behind us.” Giles announced as he stepped further into the room, putting his odd choice of weapon on a table as he noticed the book Willow was holding open.

Everyone else, including Buffy, continued to gape at him silently as he took the book from her.

“Gachnar. Of course.” He muttered as he read, and Buffy slowly shifted toward him, briefly wondering if maybe they were all having the same hallucination. “Its presence infects the reality of the house, but it’s not managed to achieve full manifestation. We  _ cannot  _ allow this to come into being.” He was oddly not stuttery, which actually worried Buffy all the more.

“But if it does, I can fight it, right?” She checked, and he moved over toward her to show her the picture of Gachnar. “I don’t wanna fight that.” She agreed immediately. “So we break the spell.”

“Whatever we do, let’s do it fast.” Xander begged.

“I have it, I have it,” Giles promised, flipping the page. “Um… ‘The summoning spell for Gachnar can be shut down in one of two ways. Destroying the Mark of Gachnar - ”

More than happy to do a little destroying and ruin this thing for terrorizing all of her friends, Buffy marched back toward the symbol on the floor and thrust her fist down into it, ripping up some of the floorboards and breaking the circle.

“- is  _ not _ one of them and will, in fact, immediately bring forth the fear demon itself.” Giles finished with annoyance, giving Buffy a look.

“Aw,  _ come on _ !” Xander whined, and Buffy flinched.

“Oops?”

They all slowly turned as the demonic voice from earlier began to shout again, this time in victory, and a bright light began to emanate from somewhere below.

“Look.” Willow murmured gravely, and they all subconsciously shifted to stand next to one another.

The roaring sound got louder for a moment, but the hole in the floor didn’t actually get any bigger, and Buffy watched in confusion as the voice died down into something… tiny.

No one said anything, and Giles removed his glasses.

“This is Gachnar?” Buffy questioned. It was smaller than a rat.

“Big overture… little show.” Xander mused with growing amusement.

“I am the Dark Lord of Nightmares. The Bringer of Terror.” It’s growl was barely more than a squeak, now, and Buffy snorted as she and Xander shared a grin. “Tremble before me! Fear me!”

“He- he’s so cute!” Willow smiled, and Xander crouched down a bit to croon in a baby-voice,

“Who’s a little fear demon? Come on, who’s the little fear demon?”

“Don’t. Taunt. The fear demon.” Giles warned, and Xander immediately straightened and took a step back again.

“Why? Can he hurt me?” He worried.

“No, it’s just tacky.” Giles gave him a look, and Buffy snorted again. “Be that as it may, Buffy, when it comes to Slaying - ”

“Size doesn’t matter?” She drawled.

“They’re all going to abandon you, you know.” The tiny demon warned her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” She lifted her foot and stomped it like it was nothing more than a cockroach.

They all stood there for a moment, and then Willow sighed, lamenting,

“I guess there’s no party, now. I didn’t even get any candy.”

“W-well, I have some, leftover, at my place, if you’d like to…” Giles hesitantly offered as he tucked his glasses back on, and Buffy squinted at him, wondering not for the first time which was more of the act for him - the badass or the shy bookworm. She wondered when he was gonna let the rest of the Scoobies start to see the real him, too. The him that was an exciting mix of both of those things, the him that Buffy knew.

“I’m in.” Xander quickly announced. “Let’s just get out of here.” He put his arm around Anya and they led the way out of the room. Giles nodded in agreement and followed, closing the book in his hand and taking it with him, picking up his chainsaw on the way out. Buffy brought up the end of the pack behind Willow and Oz… just in case.

**... ... ...**

“Some quality treats here, Giles.” Oz complimented as they gathered around the big bowl on the coffee table, Giles sitting back at his desk, his head in the book - of course.

“Please, finish them,” He replied distractedly.

“Mm, this is much better.” Buffy announced. “There is no problem that cannot be solved by chocolate.”

“I think I’m gonna barf.” Willow mumbled, slowly leaning back against the couch, and Buffy gave her a sympathetic look.

“Except that.”

“What?” Anya asked, and Buffy glanced over to find Xander eyeing her speculatively.

“That’s your scary costume?” He checked, and she shifted nervously in her seat.

“Bunnies frighten me.” She muttered.

“Bloody hell, the inscription.” Giles complained, and Buffy turned to look over the back of the couch.

“What’s the matter?”

“I should’ve translated the Gaelic inscription under the illustration of Gachnar.” He explained, standing up to approach and hand her the book, removing his glasses as he pointed over her shoulder to the spot he was referencing.

“What’s it say?” She wondered, swallowing her bite of candy.

“Actual size.” Giles muttered, and then stalked off down the hall, presumably to the bathroom. Buffy mulled over that for a moment, shrugged, and closed the book before setting it aside.

“Tiny or not, there was still some pretty scary stuff before we were able to reach the squishing stage.” Oz commented, and Buffy observed his expression for a moment before gently asking,

“What did you see?”

“I was changing.” He answered calmly and without hesitation, but Willow had leaned forward again and rested her hand on his knee, so it must’ve seriously bothered him earlier. “And I couldn’t stop it, and I scratched Willow…”

“I’m okay though, see?” She offered him a smile and showed him her hand, which he took in his own and held fondly, smiling tiredly at her.

“I know, now.” He murmured.

“I saw… well, a spell that didn’t go to plan.” She told them, glancing toward Buffy apologetically, both of them remembering their spat about that very thing. “It backfired on me.”

“I’m sorry about what I said, Willow,” Buffy apologized. “I was so on edge and everything, I got real bitchy there for a minute.”

“It’s okay, Buffy.” Willow promised. “Honestly, you were right… I’m still not super controlly girl when it comes to this stuff.” She glanced toward Oz, and then the direction Giles had disappeared to. He’d been helping her, a little bit, but she was quickly surpassing the levels that he felt comfortable working with. Phone calls and emails to his friends in Europe he’d connected her with were only so helpful… she needed to practice more practical work. “And I’m okay being your side-kick, really,”

“Nah,” Buffy shook her head. “You’re not my side-kick. None of you are.” She glanced around to each one of them. “You’re the Scooby Gang, and that’s way better.” They all smiled, especially Xander, and Buffy reached out to squeeze his knee companionably. She figured she knew what his fear had been, considering what he’d said back in the upstairs room of that house. “You do matter, Xander. And your words do, too. Did you forget about kicking my butt into gear over that gang of vampires not all that long ago?”

He half-shrugged, shyly smiling now, and glanced away.

“Love ya too, Buff.” Anya made a quiet noise with her breath, and Xander sighed. “As a friend, obviously. And on that note…” He looked at Anya. “Wanna head out? We’ve got some stuff to talk about…” To dissuade from the seriousness, he gestured at her outfit again as he got to his feet. “Like this fear of fluffy, nose-twitchy, adorable creatures you have.”

They said their goodbye’s and quietly headed out, and Buffy looked at the closed door thoughtfully for a moment.

“Are they becoming a thing?” She wondered. “Like, a serious thing?”

“I’m getting those vibes.” Oz nodded.

“What did you see, Buffy?” Willow asked softly, and Buffy hesitated, reaching for another piece of candy and slowly opening it.

Everybody else shared, so it was only fair that she did, too. But…

“I think you guys know.” She replied quietly. “It was probably easier for the demon to scare us when we were all separated, but… the fact we were separated was what scared me. More than that - it was that you had left me. I was roaming the house all alone. And when I left that house, I’d still be all alone.”

“You aren’t on your own, Buffy.” Oz promised, and Buffy gave him a quick, appreciative smile.

She broke off a piece of her chocolate with her fingers before putting it into her mouth, taking her time chewing. Eventually she continued explaining, because she knew that at the very least Willow was thinking about it,

“I wanted you guys to leave, at first, because I wanted to be sure you were safe. But then, as soon as you did…”

“The fear kicked in.” Oz finished knowingly, and she nodded.

“Well, don’t worry.” Willow announced in an official tone of voice. “I’ll always be a Scooby. I’ll never leave you, Buffy.” Her skin paled visibly, then, and she shakily got to her feet. “Except temporarily, right now,” She scrambled down the hall, brushing by Giles at the corner and slamming the bathroom door closed.

“I should go hold her hair.” Oz noted, getting to his feet and following after her.

Giles looked harried at first by the sudden rush of movement around him, and then chagrined. He approached Buffy and slowly sat down in the spot Willow had vacated, watching closely as she focused on her chocolate.

“What did you really see?” He murmured quietly, having obviously heard at least the tail end of their conversation.

“That is what happened,” Buffy returned, tossing the discarded wrapper in the pile with the others, and Giles shook his head.

“The separation was the catalyst for everyone. They all experienced their worst fears following that.” He leaned toward her, his eyes searching hers deeply, his glasses left back on the high-top counter.

She considered her experience in the basement, but ultimately dismissed it. It had never truly formed into one thing; she’d been afraid of what it  _ could have _ been, but it’d never totally manifested.

“It didn’t happen.” She answered him confidently. “In fact… the opposite happened.” She smiled a little at him, and he looked confused. “You burst through the door and saved the day,” She pointed out. “You  _ came after me _ . You didn’t leave. You showed up.”

Giles blinked, and then smiled gently. He rested his arm on the couch between them, curling his palm over her shoulder and rubbing his thumb against the fabric of her dress. Her smile widened softly, and she took the moment to admire his eyes, and the love she could so clearly see in them.

They heard the toilet flush in the back of the house, and Buffy knew they should start talking again before they got caught makin’ eyes at each other.

“So, a chainsaw, huh? Wouldn’t have guessed that as ‘festive’.” Buffy mused, grinning, and he blushed and shifted his hand to the back of the couch, fiddling his nail against the wood frame.

“That- that wasn’t my costume, actually, I- well, Anya had discovered the missing doors and windows of the house and came to me with concerns… anyway. I wanted to be prepared for anything.”

“Well, it was my kinda festive, maybe.” Buffy wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he grinned and ducked his head, the curve of his mouth slightly smug.

“Hey, I think we’re gonna call it.” Oz announced as he shuffled out into the living room with Willow leaning tiredly against his side. “She’s feeling pretty rough.”

“Too many candies for Will,” Buffy made a sympathetic sad face. “Oh - you didn’t eat anything blue, did you?”

Giles glanced behind the couple, toward the hall, and his face turned a little green.

“Not that I could tell.” Oz commented, and Willow moaned. “It’s okay, I still love you even when you’re pukey.” He promised her, tightening his arm around her shoulders and kissing her hair. “See you in class tomorrow, Buffy.”

“Sure thing.” Buffy nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

“Night…” Willow mumbled, and Oz gently led her out the front door, closing it quietly behind them. Buffy and Giles sat quietly for a moment.

“I’m terrified to go look in my bathroom, now.” Giles commented, and Buffy patted his knee consolingly.

“We’ve all faced our fears tonight, Giles. Come on,” She hopped to her feet, putting on a brave face and holding her hand out to him. “I’ll go with you.”

He smiled mysteriously at her, but then he accepted her hand and they walked together down the hall, both admittedly hesitating before peeking into the bathroom.

Giles let out a breath when it appeared spotless.

“Look at that, not a blue speck in sight.” Buffy squeezed his hand, and smiled up at him. Then she realized how close they were standing, in the not-super-wide hallway, and she swallowed nervously.

He cleared his throat, and gently slipped his hand free from hers before leading the way back into the living room. Buffy grabbed another piece of candy and watched curiously as he fiddled around some of the boxes in the corner of the room, eventually pulling out a record.

“Music education time?” Buffy teased. “Is it Halloween themed?”

“Not… exactly,” He replied, like he was hiding something, and Buffy popped the candy into her mouth before approaching him at the record player and looking over his arm.

“Dreamboat Annie? What is this?” She chuckled. “Check out that cover art - very seventies.”

“It is, actually.” He replied calmly to her teasing, turning the machine on before carefully setting the needle. A guitar began to sing out through the speakers, and he smiled to himself as he turned to face her and caught her hands in his own. “1975.”

He slowly guided her toward the rug where there was some space to dance, and slid his hands around her hips, holding her close to him as he swayed.

“Oh, this is one of those songs?” She quipped around her mouthful of chocolate, wrapping her arms around his neck anyway, smiling. She’d take any excuse to be this close with him, plus, the song kinda had an ethereal sort of sound that she liked.

“I’m a magic man,” He sang along quietly, with a smirk, when the lyrics reached that point, and Buffy gaped indignantly. He laughed, seeing that she understood what he was doing now, and she blushed and tried to wriggle out of his arms.

“I was all loopy, that’s not fair,” Buffy whined, and he only tightened his arms and swayed even more with her, moving his hips in a way that admittedly had her wanting to stay right where she was regardless that he was teasing her.

Buffy wasn’t really listening to the lyrics so much anymore, just enjoying the way the music swelled and flowed, and the way Giles moved with it. It felt very sensual, with his broad shoulders and strong hands and the crooning guitar filling the room. She pressed her face against his chest happily, basking in the comforting smell of him, the heat of his body. The simple masculinity of him made her shiver, and she relaxed her weight more fully against him, slowly trailing her fingertips down along either side of his jaw.

She slid her hands down his sweater, wrapping her arms around his body and turning her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart. It was calm, and soothing, and when he began to run his hands in long gestures up and down her back, she could’ve dozed off just like that, on her feet in the middle of his living room.

Until she registered the lyrics say something about  _ magic hands _ , and Giles’ affectionate touch turned into something more against her thighs, just beneath the admittedly short hem of her dress. He didn’t stray them any further, but continued to stroke her soft skin gently, lowering his head to brush his lips against the side of her neck. Only when she gasped did he begin to slide his fingers up higher, tentatively but unhesitating, leaving trails of sparks that made her knees feel weak.

She made no move to stop him, wondering how far he would go, and she quickly tucked her hands up beneath the hem of his sweater, pressing her palms flat against his lower back. He sucked in a quiet breath in surprise, but his fingers had also paused against the edge of her panties, so she wasn’t exactly sure which thing he was reacting to. She grimaced a little, wishing she’d worn something other than boy shorts - but she’d dressed for the possibility of slaying, not for the possibility of fondling. At least the hem was lacey, she supposed, and she relaxed and smiled as Giles played with the hem for a moment.

She trailed her nails lightly against his skin, making  _ him  _ shiver now, and her smile widened and she nuzzled her cheek against his head, encouraging him. He groaned against her neck as he shifted his hands to squeeze the curve of her butt, holding her hips tightly against his as they continued to sway throughout all of this. He slid his cheek against hers until he could kiss her, warm and intent, and when he thrust his tongue into her mouth she tucked her hands inside the back pockets of his jeans, giving his butt a hard squeeze in return.

He blurted out a startled chuckle, jumping a little in her grasp, and she whimpered softly at the feel of his hardening bulge in his pants. Giles slid one of his hands low down her ass, tucking his fingers between her legs, pressing up against her underwear.

“Buffy,” He breathed her name, full of desire as he slid his fingers across her damp panties.

“Please,” She encouraged him, wriggling her body against his as best she could within his grip, kissing him briefly. His eyes were all dark, focused, and he kissed her deeply again, running his tongue inside of her mouth in mirror to his fingers between her legs. Her breath caught as he very quickly brought her to the edge of orgasm, almost relentless in his desire to make her come. “ _ Giles _ ,” She whined and pawed at his back as he kept her lingering there, and then grabbed the back of his jeans again and dug her nails against his ass.

He jumped again, hissing out a breath in pleasure, the latch of his jeans pressing against her just right and sending her over the edge, keening with her own pleasure at the bright warmth that flooded her entire body like white lightning. Her hips rocked between his hand and his groin, following its own natural rhythm that he continued to encourage with his fingers.

Even after the intensity of the endorphins faded away, Buffy’s worries and fears from earlier in the day were completely gone; she was left in a warm little cloud of comfort and love. Giles was gently smoothing out the slight wrinkles in her dress when she finally fully refocused, slowly peppering soft kisses against her cheek and jaw.

“That was,” She swallowed, settling her breath. “very nice.”

“Mm.” He hummed in agreement, and she could feel him smile against her cheek. His hands eventually went to her back again, returning to that soothing stroking motion he’d been doing earlier. He was swaying them again, though not exactly to the beat of the song that was now playing, which was more fast paced.

“Buffy? Love?”

She blinked her eyes open when he softly called her name, and she realized that the song was changing. When she lifted her head from his chest, he sighed and gently stepped away from her, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he eventually turned to stop the record player.

Buffy blinked again, rubbing her eyes. She’d actually fallen asleep against him! She was more embarrassed by the dream she’d had than by her unintended nap, though. She wondered if she'd unintentionally done or said anything... given him any reason to suspect that she'd been dreaming...

“It’s getting late, Buffy… you have classes in the morning.” He pointed out softly, and she nodded in disappointed agreement as she tucked a loose strand of her hair back into the clip near her ear. As he returned the record to its sleeve and added it back into the box with the others, Buffy slowly followed his lead and began gathering up all the discarded candy wrappers to throw them in the garbage.

Her muscles felt all loosey goosey, and she giggled softly to herself, mildly embarrassed by the pleased flush that colored her cheeks. She wondered, for a moment, if she’d actually come from her dream. Her panties certainly felt damp enough.

“What is it?” Giles wondered, leaning his shoulder against the entry to the kitchen as he watched her.

“You make me feel good.” She said honestly, with a little shrug. The cuddly dance had felt fantastic all by itself, even without her erotic dream. The warmth in his eyes deepened as his smile widened.

“You make me feel good, too.” He murmured, and when she approached him to slide her arms around his waist, he returned the gesture immediately. She tilted her head up, stretching for a kiss, which he also fairly immediately supplied, though he kept it mostly chaste. “I’ll always be there for you when you need me, Buffy,” He promised in a whisper as they hugged again. “Don’t ever fear otherwise.”

She squeezed him a little tighter for a moment, appreciative, but then they parted ways before the air between them could grow too heady.


	18. Chapter 17 (Beer Bad)

“These are the things we want. Simple things - comfort, sex, shelter, food.” Professor Walsh explained as she flipped through her picture slides. “We always want them, and we want them all the time.”

Buffy snorted silently to herself, in wry agreement with that. Making out and fondling with Giles was amazing, and greatly relieving of the tension between them in the moment… but it was these in-between times that were getting harder. She felt like she wanted him now more than ever, and her dreams had been getting more and more… porny, of late.

“The id doesn’t learn. It doesn't grow up. It has the ego telling it what it can’t have, and it has the superego telling it what it shouldn’t want, but the id works solely out of the pleasure principle. It wants.” Walsh continued.

Buffy’s id definitely wanted. Hell, she was pretty sure her ego and her superego also wanted, at this point. Was that normal? She wondered if she could ask the professor about it without raising too many questions pointed back in her direction. Maybe she could ask after class was over… and when Willow wasn’t sitting right next to her.

“Whatever social skills we’ve learned, however much we’ve evolved, the pleasure principle is at work in all of us.”

No matter how uptight and reserved we pretend to be, we’re still controlled by our emotions in the end. Buffy snickered softly under her breath, happily thinking of the few times Giles had lost his tightly-held control around her.

“What?” Willow wondered with curious amusement, and Buffy swallowed down her smile and shook her head.

“Remember the first time we’d brought doughnuts to the library?” Buffy murmured, covering with what was still another happy memory… just in a different way.

“Oh yeah!” Willow giggled quietly as well. “I’d never seen him so… boyish, before!”

“Turns out our stuffy Englishman has an id, too, huh?” Buffy smirked, and Willow elbowed her with a coy smirk of her own.

“Yeah, called Ripper.” She joked, and Buffy shifted in her seat as a quiver went down her spine.

Oh, Willow had no idea… and on that note, Buffy reminded herself that she seriously needed to find some alone time with her bestie to talk about some of that. For them being roommates and all, they hadn’t had a whole lot of one-on-one time, lately.

“So, how does this conflict with the ego manifest itself in the psyche? What do we do when we can’t have what we want?” Walsh proposed as she moved on with her slides.

Buffy sort of stopped paying attention, admittedly; daydreaming about Giles in his robe, a cocky, Ripper-esque smile on his face as he lifted his hand in the air and crooked his finger at her, gesturing her closer.

**... ... ...**

“The last time I had a drink, I almost got eaten by a giant demon snake.” Buffy drawled, and all three of them laughed.

“You’re funny! Come on, join us,” The seeming leader of this little band of cohorts pleaded, his arms looped loosely across both his buddies' shoulders. “No pressure! But if you change your mind, the beer’s still on us.”

She wasn’t sure what made her agree to tag along to their little table in the corner, but they were going on and on about the usefulness of beer in modern society and using big words that she found ridiculously amusing considering the topic. It reminded her of Giles, a little bit; four younger, less pretty Gileses. Anyway, she felt comfortable sitting with them at least, so she stayed.

And then somehow she ended up chugging a glass of beer, caught up in competition of outdoing one of the guys - which she won, of course. As she set the empty glass down and wiped her mouth, she wondered if winning was actually a good thing.

“Had the earliest morality developed under the influence of beer, there would be no good, or evil.” One of the guys insisted. Buffy rolled her eyes. College kids would debate about  _ anything _ , wouldn’t they? “There would be ‘kinda nice’, and ‘pretty cool’. Everything would be different.” The other guys nodded in agreement.

“You guys really love to hear yourselves speak, don’t ya?” Buffy quipped, which roused a laugh around the table.

“Alright guys, we’re losing her. Say something interesting!”

“Why don’t you tell us something about yourself? What do you like?”

“Well…” She figured talking about sparring with her old high school librarian probably wouldn’t go over well with this group. “I don’t hate this for a start,” She admitted, as she accepted the fresh glass from the guy sitting across from her.

The beer didn’t taste half bad, actually, when she wasn’t chugging it. It kinda made her toes tingle, like Giles’ kisses… but in a glass. She grinned to herself as she took a drink, and the guys toasted their own glasses together in agreement with her words, having no idea that her mind wasn’t even in the room anymore.

Beer with Giles would be fun one day. Then she could compare it with his kisses directly. She wondered if he even liked beer. She hadn’t seen him drink much, but when he did it had always been whiskey. She wrinkled her nose as she considered that; she didn’t like the smell of whiskey - she wasn’t sure she’d enjoy the taste of it as much as she did this beer.

**... ... ...**

Willow came into the room muttering to herself, but Buffy was more focused on the little tv on her desk than listening to her.

“Buff, have you heard of this Veruca chick?” Willow asked, putting her makeup bag away. “Dresses like Faith, voice like an albatross.” She rolled her eyes, and Buffy glanced at her briefly before looking back to the tv.

It hurt her brain less, than trying to follow what Willow was saying.

“TV is a good thing.” She mused. “Bright colors. Music. Tiny little people.” She lazily poked at the screen, feeling all… fuzzy. Inside a cloud, but not the nice cloud that she felt with Giles. This was like a heavy cloud, that didn’t hurt or make her sad or anything, but it just wasn’t nice.

“What have you done with Buffy?” Willow wondered, stepping closer, and Buffy looked up at her wearily.

“I’m suffering the afterness of a bad night of… badness.” She informed her. Hangover, bad.

“You… uh, was- was there a boy involved in this badness?” Willow worried, wincing a little.

“No.” Buffy said, movement on the television screen drawing her attention back toward it. “There were four of them. Really smart ones.”

“ _ Four? _ ” Buffy glanced back up to find Willow gaping at her, and then she closed her mouth and blinked. “Oh.” She thought about it for a second, and then winced again. “Ow.”

“I went to see Xander…” Buffy tried to remember clearly what had happened in this night of badness. “At his new job. …Then I was lonely.” Seeing the other couples in the pub had made her miss Giles. Which was silly, because she’d just seen him at the shop a few days earlier for some training. “Then came… beer.” She brightened a bit; the beer had made her forget her loneliness for a little while.

“And then group sex?” Willow grimaced, and Buffy stared at her, snorting with amusement.

“Gutterface! No,” She snickered, shoving playfully at Willow’s arm. Maybe a bit too hard; Willow winced and rubbed her arm for a second. “Just… lots, and lots, of beer. It’s nice.” She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Foamy. …Comforting. It’s- ” Giles in a glass? Don’t say that to Willow. “Beer.”

“I’m sorry you’re lonely, Buff,” Willow consoled, patting her shoulder lovingly. “But you should never drown your sorrows in beer. C’mon,” She tried to cheer her up, “let’s head to class and we’ll secretly play ‘kiss, marry, screw’ about the guys in Psych. You never know, maybe you’ll realize there’s a cutie in the room!”

Buffy frowned, a part of her knowing that game was only for amusement. But amusement sounded better than a headache right now, so she shrugged and got to her feet, shuffling to the door.

“Uhh,” Willow hurriedly grabbed her arm to tug her back before she could open the door. “Getting dressed would be fun, too.”

Buffy looked down at her p.j.’s, and grunted in agreement.

**... ... ...**

Buffy found herself at the bar again that evening, with her new friends at their table in the corner with their peanuts and beer. She’d decided they were fun, and plus she wanted more beer so she’d forget about the nasty hangover she still hadn’t seemed to shake.

What was so great about being the Slayer if it didn’t help her with hangovers like it did with other injuries?

“You should come to our class on big thinking.” One of the guys announced in a heavy slur. “S’good.” Buffy swallowed her drink, and set her glass down as she shook her head.

“Already have big thinking man. Don’t need another.” She replied, and took another drink. For some reason the guys thought that was funny, and they all chuckled drunkenly.

“I like girls.” The one next to her insisted, as if he needed to prove himself, and she pushed at him with a snort.

“You stupid.” She declared, and he pushed her back, but missed and fell over across the back of her chair. Then they all got into an argument about who was stupider than who, and Buffy smirked as she quietly drank her beer, amused.

She suddenly realized she heard music playing, and she sat up in her seat.

“Hey!” It wasn’t Giles, but she remembered Xander was here when she saw him by the jukebox, and she hurried over beside him. “It sings.” She snickered, smacking the machine. She tilted her head at it for a moment, listening. It wasn’t the same but it reminded her of something she’d listened to with Giles. “Like it.” She decided, hugging the jukebox.

“It’s time to go home, Buffy.” Xander told her, resting his hand between her shoulder blades, and she pouted at him.

“Want more singing!” Giles’ singing was nice. Giles wasn’t here. But beer was. “Want more beer.” She decided firmly, hitting her palm down against the top of the jukebox.

“No, I’ve cut you off.” Xander informed her, and she frowned as she thought about that. She didn’t remember any cutting happening.

“Did it hurt?”

“Out you go.” Xander announced, picking her up around the waist and tugging her away from the music machine.

“Want beer.” Buffy protested, not liking feeling trapped in his arms. “Like beer! Beer good!”

“Beer bad!” Xander returned. “Bad, bad beer.” She pouted again, and he groaned. “What the hell am I saying? Buffy, go home, and go to bed.” Xander led her to the door, and made sure she was looking into his eyes so she knew his seriousness. After a moment, she pushed at his shoulder.

“Say bye.”

“…Bye?”

Home… bed. Those things sounded nice right about now. Comfortable.

“Bye.” She said to Xander, and then headed off to her dorm.

**... ... ...**

“Jack’s brother-in-law is a warlock, apparently, and showed him how to - anyway, the beer, it’s turning people into cavemen!”

Buffy vaguely registered Xander’s frantic voice echoing down the hallway outside, but continued to focus on her drawing, not really caring about what he was saying.

“I cut her off before the others, I don’t think she’s had as much to drink.”

“I can’t believe you served Buffy that beer.” Giles! Buffy sat up a little, excited. Giles was near.

“I didn’t know it was evil!”

“You knew it was  _ beer _ .”

“Well  _ excuse me _ , Mr. ‘I spent the sixties in an electric-kool-aid-funky-satan groove’.”

“It was the early seventies, and you should know better.” Giles was closer. They were coming to her room!

“I’m not the  _ dad _ of her. Buffy’s a grown-up now, intelligent enough to -” Xander cut himself off as they both came to a halt just inside the doorway.

She shifted in her crouch on the bed, showing off the drawing on the wall with a big smile.

“Watcher!” She announced proudly. Xander gaped silently, and Giles furrowed his brow thoughtfully and tilted his head to the side as he looked at it. She turned back to her drawing and pointed at different figures. “Watcher. Slayer.” She explained. She leaned back to look at the entire wall as a whole, and then scribbled over one of the other stick figures a little more.

“Uh… and what are those?” Xander wondered hesitantly, his footsteps nearing the end of her bed.

“Vampires.” Buffy growled, roughly scrawling x’s on their heads with her lipstick-turned-crayon. “Dead.”

“That’s a, uh, lovely little montage there Buff,” Xander glanced toward Giles as he reached his hand out to Buffy, and she stared at him, wondering what he wanted. “Sparring with your Watcher and slaying vampires - a Slayer’s perfect night out. Why don’t we put down the uh, lipstick, and take a seat?” He smiled nervously, and Buffy frowned at him.

“Sparring?” She repeated, and then looked back to the wall, wondering what she’d done wrong. Or maybe Xander was just dumb. It looked obvious to her.

When she faced them again, Giles’ suddenly red face told her that it was obvious to him, too, and when she opened her mouth to correct Xander, Giles stepped forward and touched her elbow.

“X- Xander is r-right,” He stammered urgently before she could speak. “W-we shouldn’t really be drawing on the walls, Buffy. Th-this isn’t your permanent room, remember? It- it belongs to the school.”

She blinked at the nervousness on his face, much more pronounced than Xander’s.

“Oh.” She slapped the lipstick into Xander’s still outstretched hand, and then bounced off the mattress to fling herself into her desk chair again. “Seat.” She announced, then startled when it spun in a circle.

Giggling with amusement, she hung off it and kicked her foot against the ground, spinning herself around again. And again… and again.

“Well, she still understands us, at least. That’s more than what I can say about the other guys.” Xander grimaced as he twisted closed the lipstick and wiped his palm against the side of his pants.

“Fascinating, really.” Giles mused after a moment. Buffy began to get dizzy and swimmy, a little like with the beer, but in a less fun way. She toppled out of the chair, and then growled and shoved it away from her. She wanted something fun, that didn’t make her fall over and - oh, tv!

She leapt toward the black screen and slapped her palm against it.

“Want people. Where people go?” Did they leave? Were they dead?

“The TV is off.” Giles informed her carefully, talking loudly for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Want. Want people.” She tapped the screen again.

“Well, she d-doesn’t appear to be in any, any immediate danger. Maybe you should stay with her,” Giles trailed off as Buffy straightened and approached him slowly. Both guys stood extremely still as Buffy squinted up at her Watcher.

“Man smell nice.” She declared. She’d always loved his scent. It was familiar, it was comforting, it aroused a feeling of love within her that made her warm and tingly all over… and it just plain aroused her.

She tucked her nose against the front of his neck, snuffling against his skin, breathing him in deeply.

“O-o-or perhaps she should be left alone,” Giles quickly suggested, his voice lilting into a nervous squeak. He lifted his chin up and put his hands on her elbows, but he wasn’t actually trying very hard to push her away. She gripped the edges of his jacket anyway, just in case.

“Y-yeah, I think we need to track down the funboys somewhat pronto.” Xander sounded amused and disturbed, but Buffy was more focused on the way Giles’ body trembled. She pressed the flat of her tongue against his throat, where his pulse throbbed and his scent seemed stronger. “J-Jack said the- the uh, the effects of the beer would wear off in a day or s-so, but,” Xander began to panic.

“D-don’t leave me here!” Giles hissed, his fingers tightening around Buffy’s elbows. She held onto his jacket even more firmly, growling warningly into the curve of his neck. “Bloody hell,” Giles stammered throatily, and she grinned, about to bite her teeth against that spot when she realized what Xander had said.

“Beer?” She whirled away from Giles and stared hard at Xander, who had frozen with his hand on the doorknob, gaping at them both. “Buffy want beer.” Giles was here now, it was perfect; she could have beer and Giles and prove which was better. (She was pretty sure Giles was better - but she needed evidence.)

“You can’t have beer.” Giles ordered, his tone sure and lacking any of the nervousness or arousal from a moment ago. Buffy slowly turned back to face him, and he blinked, his serious expression growing nervous again at her dark look.

“ _ Want _ .” She insisted, and he swallowed.

“Giles, don’t make Cave-Slayer unhappy,” Xander quipped, his tone still a little too high-pitched to be normal. “Why don’t you stay here and keep an eye on her and  _ I’ll _ go a-hunting.”

“Don’t you dare!” Giles insisted desperately as Xander quickly slipped through the door.

“I’ll call Faith!” He called out as he disappeared from sight, and Buffy stared at Giles as the door clicked shut.

“B- Buffy…” He began slowly, still holding his finger up warningly between them. It was shaking, just slightly, and she blinked. Giles was her mate, Giles  _ gave _ , she didn’t  _ take _ .

“Want beer.” She pouted, flopping down onto the end of her bed. “Foamy.”

“Y- … yes, it is foamy.” Giles slowly agreed, turning the desk chair around to face her and easing himself down into it carefully. “But the beer isn’t good, Buffy. It- it’s bad beer.”

“Beer good.” She insisted, looking at him, not pouting now. “Beer nice! Beer tingly. …Giles tingly.” She added in a softer tone.

He seemed to realize something, then, and his expression softened and he took his glasses off, cleaning them slowly.

“Buffy,”

“Giles nice.” She murmured, standing in the space between them, and he looked up quickly at her sudden nearness. His lips were parted slightly, and she touched them with the pads of her fingers. “Kiss nice. Tingly.” She smiled at him, and his breath brushed hotly against her fingers. His eyes drifted closed, then, but he didn’t look nervous anymore.

“Y-you drank the beer because- because you- you missed me?” He guessed.

“Beer not  _ as  _ good.” She admitted ruefully, slowly tracing the curve of his mouth. He tossed his glasses and handkerchief on the end of her bed, to put his hands on her hips and keep her from standing any closer.

“W- we’re supposed to  _ not _ be kissing as much, r-remember?” He tried, his eyes still closed. She ran her fingers over the curves and planes of his face, filled with love and pride.

“Good mate.  _ Mine _ .” She proclaimed, and his eyes jerked open.

“M-m-mate?” He repeated, and she smiled again as she easily pried his hands from her hips and stepped forward to straddle him on the chair, setting his hands back on her thighs so she could drape her arms over his shoulders.

“Watcher-mine.” She nestled against him, tucking her face against the curve of his neck again, just hugging him and breathing him in this time without all the nuzzling of before.

His fingers tightened firmly against her thighs, and he trembled again.

“Buffy,” His voice was gravelly again, but tinged with dismay, and she petted her fingers through his hair comfortingly.

“Buffy strong,” She squeezed her thighs around his hips in point, and he released a breath against her ear that almost sounded like a whine.

“Y-yes, Buffy very strong,” He gasped in a whisper that now sounded distracted.

“Won’t hurt.” She promised him, easing her grip, and the tension in his body seemed to lessen somewhat. She continued to pet his hair, until his heart didn’t beat so fast against her chest, and his fingers were relaxed around her hips.

She sat up, wanting to look into his eyes, and she cradled his face gently between her hands.

“Nice.” She sighed longingly, stroking her thumb against the creases at the corner of his eye, and then down near the corner of his mouth. “Tingly.” His eyes still on hers, he turned his head slightly to carefully kiss her finger. She stared at him, wide-eyed, wondering if he was changing his mind now.

Giles gently took her hand in his own, and kissed her other fingers, and then her palm, and then the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. Buffy shifted her hips over his, whining quietly.

“Tingly,” She said again, more of a warning this time.

“Yes,” He whispered, drawing her arm over his shoulder to pull her closer to him again, “tingly.” He kissed her neck and she groaned, tilting her head back and gripping onto his shoulders tightly. He sucked on the hollow of her throat until she groaned, and then he kissed his way to her mouth, nibbling on her lips for a while, until she was dizzy and weightless in the good kind of cloud.

And then his tongue was in her mouth, and his hands were  _ encouraging _ the movement of her hips over his, and Buffy was in ecstasy.

Giles was definitely better than beer!

His trousers didn’t do a whole lot to hide his growing arousal, and Buffy ground her pelvis down hard enough to make him pry his mouth from hers with a harsh gasp. He didn’t stop her, only watched her moving in his lap for a moment, his lips reddened from their kissing and his expression heavy with desire.

Suddenly he leaned in again, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her collarbone, and down her chest, until he reached the hem of her tee. His hands shifted up from her hips, and it wasn’t until she acknowledged his palms against her waist that she realized he was pushing her shirt up.

“Good, good, good,” She preened, wriggling excitedly now, carding her fingers through his hair again as he bunched her shirt up beneath her arms, exposing her breasts.

He skipped over the fabric of her shirt as he continued kissing down her chest, kissing skin he’d never touched before, lingering, his breath feeling hotter than ever against her soft curves.

“Very good,” He moaned, kissing toward the peak of her breast. He cupped her in his hands and massaged her for a moment, admiring, before guiding her other nipple to his mouth and nibbling and sucking until she’d shoved her hands beneath his jacket and practically clawed at his shoulders.

She couldn’t even think, couldn’t fathom anything outside of the points where their bodies touched. He was so hard against her linen pants, she might not have been wearing anything at all, and when he shifted his fingers over her unattended nipple to play with it, she had one clear thought:

No beer, anywhere, would make her feel  _ this  _ good.

Buffy cried out in delight and clutched his head against her chest, gripping her legs around him tightly as she came hard, her blood humming in her veins as her muscles contracted with an almost desperate relief. He slowly lowered his hands to her waist, holding her as she rocked over him, gentling the touch of his mouth on her breast and eventually back up her neck and to her lips.

She kissed him fiercely, ignoring her own breathlessness, until her entire body felt overwhelmed with pleasure and she slumped against him, bonelessly tired all of a sudden. She lazily stroked her fingers through the ends of his hair as her pulse began to settle, and he gingerly straightened her shirt back down, and then began to run his palm against her hair.

“Christ.” He was breathless, too, and still extremely hard. “ _ Fuck _ .”

“Mm,” She hummed, deeply sated, her breasts and her neck and her mouth enjoyably tender, and she shifted back a little bit so she could reach between them for the latch of his trousers.

“No,” He croaked, grabbing her wrist immediately and holding her tight. “No, Buffy,”

“No?” She paused and straightened, looking at him in confusion. Then she looked down at his crotch, and back up. “Yes.” She informed him, noting his still-obvious erection.

He shook his head, and guided her off of his lap, pushing her toward her bed before removing his hands from her and pacing across the room away from her. She sat down on the edge of her mattress slowly, watching him, confused. He pushed his hands through his hair roughly, scrubbed his palms over his face, and then cursed again.

“ _ Fuck! _ ”

“Good?” Buffy asked him timidly. She wasn’t scared of him, but she was bothered because he was clearly bothered.

“Oh, Buffy,” He suddenly turned back toward her and slid onto his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her and hiding his face against her belly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She hesitantly ran her fingers through his hair, comforting him, wondering why he sounded so sad now when a moment ago he’d seemed so happy… and he’d made  _ her  _ feel so happy.

“Giles good,” She assured him. “Tingly.” She shivered, and smiled. “All over.”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He shook his head against her, not letting her see his face.

“Buffy want.” She pointed out, gripping his hair to force his head up. Shouldn’t didn’t matter - she’d wanted him. He’d given her what she’d wanted, and he’d done a damn good job at it.

“It doesn’t matter that you wanted it, Buffy - you aren’t in your right mind!” He sounded, and looked, anguished. There were tears in his eyes where lust had been previously, and that alarmed her. “Even if you hadn’t been under the influence of the spell, you’re  _ drunk _ ! Bloody hell.  _ Bloody hell _ .”

He reared back from her then, as if their touching disturbed him, and paced across to the other side of the room again, once more running his hands through his hair in agitation.

Buffy slowly curled up against her pillows, tucking her feet in front of her and resting her chin atop her knees, watching him carefully. Even though he was making her a little anxious as well, she still felt tingly and tender and sated from before, so she decided she knew what his problem was.

“Buffy help.” She announced, and he paused, lifting his gaze toward her slowly, not following. She pointed at him, or rather, the vicinity of his crotch. “Giles want. Buffy help. Giles good.”

“No, Buffy.” Giles sighed, weary, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“ _ Mate _ .” She reminded him forcefully. “Buffy help.”

“It doesn’t matter that I’m your-!” He cut himself off, hesitating before adding, “Partner.” At her continued glare, he softened his tone and stepped closer to her bed again, kneeling beside it. “Even if you wanted this on a normal day of the week, Buffy, right now you are under the influence of a spell.” He tried to explain. “And it was wrong to take advantage of that. I’m sorry.”

“Giles didn’t  _ take _ .” Buffy growled at him. “Giles  _ give. Buffy give. _ ” She thumped her chest, hard, startling him a bit. “No one takes. Buffy strong.” He smiled a bit, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Buffy very strong.” He murmured. “And beautiful. And I love- I love- God, I love you, but I just…” He closed his eyes tightly, and Buffy growled again.

“Buffy help.” She repeated. If he’d just let her help, then he’d feel good like she did.

“No!” He snapped, startling her, and she stared at him incredulously. Immediately, his frustration slipped into sorrow again, and she wasn’t sure which annoyed her more. Her happy cloud was going away, and she’d almost rather have the hangover.

“Fine. Buffy sleep.” She huffed, turning and flopping down onto the mattress with her back to him.

After a few minutes, she heard him wheel her chair back into place by the desk, and then heave out a sigh as he sat down on the floor beside her bed. The room was quiet then, for a while, until she picked up on his stuttered breaths.

Silently, she turned back over to face him, seeing that he was sitting with his back against her bed, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking a little bit, and all she wanted was to make him feel better, but she wasn’t sure how.

Quietly, she shifted closer, so she could rest her hand on his shoulder while she slept.

“Love Giles.” She whispered, staring at the back of his head. After a moment, he leaned his cheek against her knuckles, acknowledging her comfort.

She fell asleep not long after that, only somewhat coming to when Willow came back to the room.

“Oh! Giles? I uh, didn’t expect you to… what’s wrong with Buffy? …Does it have anything to do with the cavemen Faith had to save me from?”

“D-did Xander tell you about the beer?” Buffy felt him shift out from beneath her hand, and get to his feet with a soft grunt of discomfort.

“Yeah! I can’t believe that old bartender would do such a - oh. That’s the beer Buffy had with the guys, huh?”

“G-guys?”

“Yeah,” Willow snickered softly, still speaking lowly in respect to Buffy’s ‘sleeping’. “She mentioned having a hangover this morning because she’d been drinking with a group of guys last night. The way she said it, ha, I thought she’d been talking about  _ group sex _ at first.” Willow giggled and then immediately trailed off. “But you don’t want to hear about that. Right.”

“W-w-was she… very… cave-like, this morning, when you spoke to her?” Giles asked hesitantly.

“No,” Willow mused thoughtfully, “just seemed way hungover. Is that why you’re here? Did she go all neanderthal?”

“Um… not quite as far as ‘fire, pretty’, but, uh, yes,”

“Oh!” Willow seemed to ignore his half-assed answer and sounded surprised. “Cave drawings?” Her amusement was obvious, and Giles cleared his throat.

“Apparently.” There was an awkward silence, and he quickly said, “I-I’ll, I’ll go. She- she should be feeling better in the morning. Fully Buffy by tomorrow night. Xander said she… she didn’t drink as much as the others.” Quietly, he muttered, “I didn’t realize they were friends of hers.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call them friends.” Willow had heard him, too. “She said she was feeling lonely, and they were showing off trying to be smart guys and amusing her, I guess, or something.”

“I see.”

There was another moment of silence, and then Buffy felt the blanket at the foot of her bed being pulled up over her shoulders.

“Sleep well, luv.” His whisper was barely audible, his fingertip lingering against her cheek briefly before he straightened and headed to the door.

“Uh, Giles? Your glasses,” Willow noted.

“Right. Thank you.”

The door closed, and Willow stood still for a long minute before she then made the usual getting-ready-for-bed sounds.

Buffy fell back asleep.


	19. Chapter 18 (Wild at Heart)

Willow was waiting for her outside the classroom, and immediately noticed the dazed disbelief on Buffy’s face.

“Are you okay? How’d you do?” She asked with concern, prepared to sympathize.

Buffy clutched her paper to her chest for a moment, drawing out the moment, and then flipped it over to show Willow the big, circled, red ‘A’ at the top.

“This is good.” Willow took the paper from her in amazement. “I mean, this is  _ excellent _ . You did better than me - this is so unfair!” Willow stopped and faced her. “You made me jealous of you academically! Buffy!” She exclaimed proudly, and then hugged her tightly, which Buffy returned with amusement.

“I know, can you believe it?” Buffy barely could, taking her paper back and staring at it. She hadn’t been this proud of something she’d done in school since her SAT’s. “Hanging out with Giles must finally be rubbing off on me.” Buffy smiled as she joked - he would be so happy to see this.

But then she remembered that she hadn’t seen nor heard from him in two weeks… ever since the beer incident… and her smile fell.

“Wow, I guess Professor Walsh isn’t so ogre-y after all.” Willow grinned, not noticing Buffy’s quick change in demeanor. Or, perhaps, used to it… Buffy knew that she’d been pretty mopey since recovering from her Cave-Buffy status.

“And she wants me to lead a discussion group next class.” Buffy informed Willow, wanting to stay distracted from the clear Giles problem going on. Then, she realized with disappointment, “That means more work, right? Shouldn’t she have a better reward system? You know, like a cookie,” Damn it,  _ stop _ thinking about Giles for five minutes! “Or, a toy surprise like at the dentist?”

“She wants you to lead a discussion group?” Willow pouted. “Okay, jealous again. Jealous… jealous… okay, I’m back!” She grinned, her level of joy pulling a real smile out of Buffy, too. “Hey, I’m meeting Oz at the cafe. You wanna come? We can call the Magic Box and beg Giles’ boss to give him a long lunch break!” She giggled at her own joke. “I bet he’d be super happy to hear about your paper, you know, do that whole proud Englishman, have-to-clean-my-spotless-glasses routine we all know and love.”

Buffy hesitated, and Willow elbowed her encouragingly.

“I’ll buy you that celebratory cookie.” She offered, and Buffy tried to smile earnestly again.

“Great. I’m t.a. bound right now, and then I will catch up with you guys. Um… and I’ll call Giles, okay?”

“Cool.” Willow grinned and skipped off, and Buffy let her expression fall, glancing toward the phone on the wall as she walked passed it, heading for the offices the t.a.’s used.

**... ... ...**

“Check out the rapid exits.” Buffy mused as she passed Veruca heading away from the table Willow was sitting at. Oz was heading off in the opposite direction almost at the same time. “Was it me?” She wondered as she joined Willow.

“Me.” Willow grumbled, in a distinctly different mood than she had been earlier. “I don’t speak musicianese. How come you didn’t tell me I look like a crazy birthday cake in this shirt?” She pouted, and Buffy glanced over her attire as she set her cup of coffee on the table next to the one Oz had abandoned.

“I thought that was the point,” She tried to get Willow to laugh, but it didn’t work.

“He thinks she’s sexy. He gets this blushy thing going behind his ears. That’s for me only.” She trailed off sadly, and Buffy gave her a sympathetic look.

“It doesn’t mean anything.” She assured her earnestly, though inwardly she was surprised to hear it. Of all the couples she knew, she’d never have expected  _ Oz and Willow _ to be having troubles. “So Oz checks out another girl. He  _ loves _ you.”

“I know. I- I know. And I don’t wanna be the kind of girl who freaks every time my boyfriend notices somebody else. I mean, I have wrong feelings about other guys sometimes… but I feel guilty, I flog and punish.”

“Exactly.” Buffy smiled at her softly. “I’m sure Oz is flogging and punishing himself… this is sounding wrong before I even finish.” She grimaced, and tried again. At least her flub had gotten a little smile out of Willow again. “Look, I promise you, in a couple of days it’s gonna be like ‘Veruca who?’”

“You think?” Willow sounded better already, and Buffy nodded.

“Absolutely. Oz just isn’t the type to stray.” Oz, in many ways, reminded her a lot of Giles. Although they were also vastly different… but in the ‘good-boyfriend’ sense, similar.

Though whereas Oz is likely feeling guilty about someone else, Giles was off feeling guilty about himself… and Buffy had no idea how to make him believe that she didn’t blame him an ounce for anything that had happened.

Blaming herself, on the other hand…

“Not tonight, anyway,” Willow was back in a joking mood, at least a little bit. “He’ll be locked in a cage.”

Buffy gave her another smile, and pushed Oz’s abandoned coffee her way.

“Don’t let the caffeinated yumminess go to waste. My Willow deserves a little happy hyper boost on full moon days.” Buffy encouraged, and she did a little happy dance in her seat as she nodded in agreement and picked up the cup to take a drink.

“Oh!” She seemed to just remember. “Is Giles coming?”

“Oh, uh, no… he um, said something about a new shipment in, or something.” Buffy fibbed, focusing on prying her lid off her coffee as if it needed cooling down before drinking again.

“Oh.” Willow deflated slightly, but then asked hopefully, “Did you tell him about your paper? What did he say? Was he proud?”

“He uh…” Buffy hesitantly half-smiled. “Yeah, he was happy about it. You know.” She shrugged it off as if she were shy about it, and Willow reached out to touch the strap of her bag.

“Let’s see it again!” She requested excitedly. “Maybe I can help you prepare something to say in the discussion group.”

“ _ Godsend _ , Will.” Buffy groaned in relief as she pulled her paper out of her bag. “What would I do without you?”

She watched as Willow read the brief comments the professor had added to the paper, delight brightening her face, and tried not to feel guilty about lying about Giles. He probably really would have been that delighted about it, too; given her that little smile that always seemed to be reserved just for her, on special occasions… but they were in a weird place right now, a place Buffy had no idea how to navigate.

Maybe it was a guy thing? She needed help - and right now there was really only one person that she could ask.

**... ... ...**

“Buffy.” Oz greeted her in surprise, and stepped back to let her enter his bedroom. “You were not who I was expecting.” He admitted, eyeing her curiously. She’d only been to the house once before, with Willow, and she’d  _ never _ come by his room for a private chat.

“I… wanted to talk to you about something.” She admitted hesitantly, and he quickly moved to his desk chair, cleaning notebooks off of it before gesturing for her to sit, and then sat down on the end of his bed.

“Me, too.” He replied with a quiet seriousness. He considered, for a moment, and then gestured his head at her. “Is your thing business, or pleasure?”

“Um… uh…” She hesitated. Giles kind of encompassed both.

“It’s about Giles, isn’t it.” Oz figured, and she blinked at him. The corner of his mouth quirked up a tiny bit. “Full moon; my nose is even more sensitive than usual.” He tapped the bridge of his nose for emphasis, trying to keep his comment lighthearted because he knew how weird it sounded, “There’s a part of you that always gets… excited when you think about him. And your heart does this cute little skip thing I never hear any other time.” He tilted his head curiously with that comment, and Buffy blushed. “You really like him, huh?” Oz softened his tone even further.

“I really do.” She murmured, fiddling her fingers for a moment.

“Mine’s business related, so maybe we should deal with yours, first.” He suggested gently, and leaned forward to listen attentively. Buffy took a deep breath, and tried to gather her still-scattered thoughts.

“How much do you know? About me and Giles. Really.”

“Well,” He mused, giving the question serious consideration. “You know my memory is getting better after full moons. At first I wasn’t sure what I knew. I just had brief flashes of…” He hesitated, glancing back toward her.

“Everything you know, please.” She requested, urging him to continue. “I can’t actually  _ die  _ of embarrassment, even if I might get close.”

“You were kissing. In the library, I think. And after that… I started paying more attention. Started noticing the way you’d smile after leaving his office, or how he’d watch you working when he didn’t think anyone was paying attention to him. I thought it was just a Watcher thing, but then with the kissing and…” He paused for a minute, and eventually took a breath as he continued, “Well, humans don’t give off and perceive pheromones in the same way animals do, but there are tells we  _ do _ give off that our subconscious picks up.” He raised his eyebrow a little bit, either amused or impressed, maybe a little of both. “There started to be a lot of that going around, especially around graduation. And over the summer.”

“And the scent thing too, I take it?” Buffy tried to keep factual about the whole thing, and willed her blush to go away. Oz nodded.

“Everyone has their own scent, even more unique when it’s paired with their body wash or cologne. It was a no-brainer to me, once we all started spending more time together last summer.”

“Aw, geez.” Buffy blushed again, and he smiled a little at her, consoling. He couldn’t help his abilities any more than Buffy could help hers. His were just a little more awkward to deal with, sometimes.

“Why do you ask?” He wondered.

“I… you’re…” This is where it got testy, because she’d have to confront him about his sudden fascination in the mysterious Veruca. And for him to be possibly able to help her, he’d have to be honest about that. “You’re a lot like Giles, in ways, and I just wondered… I mean, this isn’t exactly something I can ask Xander… Especially since you’re one of the few people that actually knows and has proof about me and Giles…”

“Should I be worried?” Oz checked, leaning away just an inch or so, mostly teasing.

“Oh, God, not that -” Buffy assured him, and then winced. “No offense, I just - I love ya, Oz, but you’re not my type. And even if you were, my best friend is completely in love with you, so…”

His expression softened at the mention of Willow, and she knew to her bones that he wasn’t cheating on her.

“I’m not trying to assume anything here, I’m just going by what I’ve seen - but you seem guilty about this new friend of yours. The girl from that other band.”

“Well,” His hesitation was heavy, and Buffy shook her head gently.

“I’ll ask about that in a minute. What I wanna know right now is… this uh, guilt - the guilt that I think I see, anyway, and I could be totally wrong there - but it’s because you  _ know _ Willow thinks something is going on, isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly, looking ashamed now, but more in pain for the situation as a whole.

“So… say you’re feeling guilty for having wandering eyes. You know it’s wrong and you immediately feel bad about it even though you haven’t done anything beyond having a stray thought. What about - what if you’d done something with  _ Willow _ ? Willow who you know loves you and wants you and welcomes you… doing… things.”

“Well,” Oz hesitated again, awkwardly now. “I… considering Willow and I  _ do _ have sex, I don’t tend to feel guilty about it.” He tilted his head again, his eyes boring into hers. “Did you and Giles…?”

“No,” Buffy sighed, then realized how disappointed she sounded, and blushed again. “I- I mean… when I was, um… the beer situation?” She winced, and he did as well.

“Willow told me about that. Rough time.”

“Mostly.” Buffy agreed ruefully, and paused for a moment before quietly admitting, “But there was some time in my room, with Giles, where it was… really good. And not- not even anything we haven’t actually done before, I mean, not really - even though we don’t do that that often, it wasn’t totally from left field - well, other than when he- but I mean, it wasn’t like we… you know.”

“…I don’t think I do.” Oz admitted, furrowing his brow as he tried to follow her train of thought.

“We didn’t sleep together,” She murmured, shy about opening up like this with Oz, who was still a guy, regardless of the fact she felt most comfortable speaking this openly with him as opposed to anybody else.

Well, except for Willow, of course, but Willow would want to go through the amazement and the squealing stage about Giles first, and Buffy didn’t have the emotional strength to do that right now.

“But we did get handsy and he did make me… well.” She paused, and Oz blinked, otherwise stoic-faced. Buffy appreciated that about him immensely. “He thinks he took advantage of me, of the situation. And I don’t know how to prove to him that he didn’t, that I wanted it then and even now after the fact, I still see that- that… interaction… as a- a mutually beneficial… moment.” She paused even longer. “Even if it wasn’t totally mutual in that sense.”

“In what sense?” Oz asked, and she realized she’d made it sound too much like a mutual consent thing and not actually what she’d meant, and hurriedly clarified,

“He didn’t, uh… well after I… He freaked out pretty much right after I reached, uh, happy-cloud-land.”

“Happy cloud land?” Oz repeated with a tiny amused smile, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

“He made me come and he wouldn’t let me return the favor.” She huffed, knowing that she was blushing profusely. “In fact, he barely came near me after that. And- and since… he hasn’t even called in two weeks.”

“Patrols?” Oz questioned, and she shook her head, once more comforted that trusty Oz was keeping his focus on the matter at hand, and not on teasing her.

“I’ve left messages on his machine. Things have been pretty quiet on that front, anyway… nothing more than the occasional vampire looking for an easy co-ed.”

“Well… my thing might be able to help with that part, at least.” Oz said, and she darted her gaze up from her knees in surprise. “Veruca? It’s not what you think, or what Willow thinks,” He began, and Buffy narrowed her eyes suspiciously but let him finish, “You remember that mysterious werewolf you guys were hunting over the summer, and never found?”

“Yeah…?”

His head twitched just slightly, and that tiny smirk appeared on his lips again.

“Okay, noted… Were you two actually out there hunting, or were you -”

“I think we’ve moved on to your thing, at the moment, haven’t we?” Buffy interrupted his amused question, and his smirk widened for a moment before he nodded, and then his features sobered.

“I figured it out. Veruca is a werewolf. And likely the one we heard about last summer.”

Buffy’s eyes widened at his deadly serious expression - more poignant than his normal serious expression.

“This is definitely more important than my thing.” She breathed, and he reached out to touch her knee, briefly, stopping her before she could fully stand from the chair.

“Your thing is important too.” His tone was almost chiding, and Buffy slowly relaxed against the seat again. “We all know Giles is the man with the plan… most of the time. He’s control-guy, especially about himself. The rare times we’ve seen him not control-guy, it’s been… not good.” He cocked his eyebrow slightly, and Buffy nodded in agreement.

Ripper had been fun strolling around with, and exciting to flirt with, but she also hadn’t forgotten the look in his eyes as he’d held that gun to Ethan Rayne’s head… And she remembered his sheer desperation when Eyghon had been stalking him, too; his… reckless disregard for his own health.

“Considering the few things I’ve seen between you two, it’s a safe guess that he does his best to be control-guy when he’s around you, too?” Oz figured, and she nodded. Very true. “So it sounds like he lost control, that night. And he did it while you were vulnerable.”

“But I’m -”

“Doesn’t matter that you’re the Slayer and could realistically kick his ass even if you’re drunk - you’re the woman he loves. The woman he’s also sworn his life to protect, not only because he loves you but it’s also like… his greatest duty.”

Oz’s words made her chest feel tight, her heart hurt, because she knew that he was right - she knew that Giles still loved her dearly. But the swift and practically  _ complete _ distance he’d put between them these last couple of weeks had made the time feel exponentially longer… and much more devastating.

“Even if you wanted him then, and you still want him now, he feels like he’s betrayed you. Maybe betrayed himself.” Oz paused for a moment as he thought about what to say. “I think you’re just going to have to… keep assuring him of your feelings, and give him time. He’s gotta forgive himself.” Oz pressed his lips together and squinted his eyes in a sympathetic expression. “I know you like action-y ways to fix things, but… I honestly think you’re gonna have to leave this one up to Father Time.”

Buffy acknowledged his words, and appreciated them greatly. Oz didn’t always go into great lengths of speech, not with anyone other than Willow anyway, but when he did… it always really meant something. After a moment of sitting in comfortable silence, however, Buffy sighed dejectedly.

“If Veruca really is the werewolf, we might not have that option.” She admitted. “I have to tell him. Is there… is there anything else about her you can tell me?”

“I got out, last night.” He replied directly and honestly, and the sudden  _ seriousness _ of that made her eyes widen and her heart jump in her throat. “Don’t worry, I’ve checked the papers, and nothing happened… I don’t think. But I have flashes of memory… Professor Walsh leaving the school. Finding another wolf stalking her. Fighting.”

“With Professor Walsh?!” Buffy exclaimed.

“No, the other werewolf.” He took a breath. “She’s stronger than me, way stronger.” He sounded sorely embarrassed to be admitting this, and a bit annoyed, too. Buffy figured a part of that was the wolf, more prevalent right now because of the lurking moon.

She could tell by the way he spoke that the fight had been much more serious than his words let on, and it would fit with their theory about the summer-werewolf being experienced, or even trained.

“What makes you think this other wolf is Veruca?”

“I ran into her this morning, at The Pump. She made a comment about needing the caffeine boost after a crazy night… and the cocky look in her eyes… I just knew it.” He almost sounded like he growled a little, and Buffy eyed him sideways with mild alarm. “I’m… okay.” He assured her after a moment, visibly settling himself. “I suspected something was different about her from the very beginning. It’s why I’ve been trying to follow her.” He sighed. “And now we know, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us about this when you first started suspecting?” Buffy wondered softly. “Or, at least, tell Willow. She’s been so worried that you might be… that you don’t love her the way you used to.”

“I didn’t know if Veruca was bad, or not - I mean,  _ I _ try not to be evil.” Oz pointed out. “And I was… excited about the idea of there being another  _ me _ around. A whole Hellmouth, but only one werewolf… it’s lonely sometimes, even with you guys.” He hesitated, eyeing Buffy before admitted, “And the wolf… doesn’t like the Slayer. I tried to - this is gonna sound weird, but I tried to get him to accept you guys as his pack. The Scoobies. And he was cool with it, I think… except for you. And you’re our fearless leader, so,”

“Fearless?” Buffy snorted. “Think we’ve busted that one already.” Oz gave her a wry smile, and she tilted her head curiously. “Did I… insult the wolfy part of you in some way?” She wondered, and he shook his head.

“It’s not you. It’s the Slayer. He doesn’t need to be the alpha or anything, but the power you have is far beyond that. It terrifies him, and he doesn’t trust it.”

“Do…  _ you _ trust me?” She asked quietly, and he furrowed his brow.

“Of course.”

“Well… I trust you too, so I don’t know if that changes things for your wolf or not, but you let him know. If it helps… I’m pretty sure the Scoobies would love to be your pack.” They shared a soft smile between them, and Buffy got to her feet. “I need to go tell Giles about this. If this chick is trying to turn you to the dark side or something, then we need to try and be ready by tonight.”

“Thank you.” Oz said earnestly, and stood as well. “Buffy?” He stopped her before she reached the door, and waited for her to turn back to face him. “Giles still loves you. And I’m not saying that to make you feel better - it’s just fact. And I’m gonna tell Willow, but I want you to hear it too - I love that woman more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in the world. I love her more every day.” He paused, and then smiled gently. “And if you think I’m like Giles in that regard, then I’d have to say that he loves you more every day, too.”

Buffy gave him another smile, a more genuine one, and quietly nodded before stepping out of his room. She wondered for a moment, with wry amusement, if she would ever hear Oz say that much in one go ever again. That he had, though, encouraged her - he knew how serious Giles was to her, and he’d wanted to make sure she was comforted even beyond his usual Oz-isms.

Her smile wavered slightly with nervousness as she walked out of the house and down the street in the direction of Giles’. Now she just needed to figure out which would comfort  _ him _ better; pretend like nothing was up and focus totally on the werewolf issue, apologize and then focus on the werewolf issue, kiss him until he got the message and then focus on the werewolf issue…

“No, Buffy.” She chided herself and her one-track mind. “Oz was right. He needs to feel like he’s in control of himself again. No smoochies until  _ Giles _ initiates, and that’s an order.”

She had ten minutes to get her nerves under control before she reached his house.

**... ... ...**

She knocked on the door, and quickly checked the neckline of her dress that it wasn’t pulled awkwardly or drooping too low because of her bookbag. At least it was ankle-length, so she wouldn’t have to worry about that… And a large part of her was dismayed that she was finding herself wanting to  _ cover up _ around Giles.

“Buffy!” He greeted her with surprise when he opened the door, not entirely unlike the way Oz had greeted her… except perhaps with more nervousness. “Uh, come in.” He stepped to the side and tugged his glasses off as she slowly stepped across the threshold, trying to take him in without staring too much.

The past two weeks had been  _ so long _ .

“Hi…” She greeted quietly. He was wearing a sweater and lounge pants, and his jaw was a little darkened with a five o’clock shadow, but his eyes seemed bright and alert. Maybe too alert? She’d been prepared for a more avoidy version of Giles.

“C-can I get you anything?” He offered as he closed the door behind her. “Tea? I- I made a- a very interesting, uh, moussaka last night, if you’re hungry.”

“Pass on the tea.” Buffy replied gently, standing at the opposite end of his desk, turning to face him though she kept her eyes averted for the moment. He seemed almost a bit… manic. Which was different. She wasn’t sure how to handle that. “And the… moose. Thank you.”

When she glanced back up from the floor, it was to find him gazing intently at her as he settled against the front edge of his desk. She was struck breathless for a moment by his eyes, by the aching longing their familiarity sparked within her. Two weeks. It’d only been two weeks.

Two weeks of absolutely nothing, but still.

“You come on business, I hope?” He wondered hopefully with a smile - an honest-to-God smile on his face - and Buffy blinked at him. There was a flash of something Ripper, there, for a second, and she wasn’t sure whether that terrified her or excited her.

So he’d missed being her Watcher these last weeks… but had he missed anything else?

“Yes. Lucky for you, people may be in danger.” She quipped, and he made a wry expression, then.

“I- I only meant that, uh, I’m… at the ready.” He trailed off awkwardly, looking slightly apologetic, and Buffy anxiously wondered if she shouldn’t have knocked his hyperness down so quickly. That might be easier for her to deal with right now than his self-flagellation. (And if only that was as dirty as it sounded…)

“Here’s the deal,” She figured she should get to the point while her limbs weren’t shaking yet. “Oz said that he was attacked last night. While under the light of a nearly full moon.”

“Someone attacked Oz while he was a werewolf?” Giles wondered in surprise, furrowing his brow. “Is he alright? Was it a demon? Only the dumbest of vampires would think to go after a werewolf especially during a full moon cycle - oh, was it Spike?” His tirade of thought ended in an annoyed drawl, and Buffy smirked briefly at the mental image of wolfed-out Oz kicking Spike’s ass.

“Oz had broken out of his cage, apparently… and came across another werewolf on campus.”

“Another…?” Giles frowned again. “I- I’ve not seen anything about attacks in the- the newspapers, or, on the news,” He glanced down at the small tv monitor on the corner of his desk. “What else has Oz said?”

“He’s pretty sure he knows who it is.  _ And _ ,” She took a steadying breath, meeting his eyes calmly as she said, “he thinks it’s the same werewolf we were hunting over the summer, and never caught.”

“Oh- ah.” Giles blinked, his face blank, and folded his arms across his chest as he ducked his head.

Buffy inwardly sighed; she’d hoped that mention might rouse a bit of teasing, or maybe some coy looks, at least. She reminded herself to be patient, and gripped her fingers around the bookbag straps on her shoulders, resettled its weight comfortably.

“I have to find her. Besides the fact that she’s totally fine with whatever the wolf does - including kill people - she’s doing something to Oz, too… influencing the wolf, outside of his control. She’s dangerous, Giles.”

“C-come back by at sunset, and- and take the tranquilizer gun,” He insisted, gesturing toward the gun cabinet nestled discreetly between two bookshelves. She nodded, and stepped back toward the door. “Be careful, Buffy. And- ” He paused, and then stood up and approached her. “Keep me updated?” He requested softly.

“Sure, Watcher-mine.” She replied calmly. “Of course.”

He swallowed at the love-name, his expression flickering quickly between, pain, longing, and - just for a blink - fierce desire. That made her breathless, again, and she stood frozen still for a moment as she fought against herself to touch him, even just briefly. They stared at one another in that moment, both of them hardly breathing, the air between them charged with too many different emotions for it to be a strictly pleasurable moment.

“I’ll be back later for the rifle.” Buffy murmured, and then turned on her heel and out the door.

Forcing herself to put that powerful moment into a box in the corner of her mind, Buffy tried to focus on how Giles had really looked, as a whole, and how he’d acted. How his voice sounded, and the way he’d looked at her.

Almost  _ too _ directly. Desperate, hungry. But with his arms folded tightly across his chest, and a good couple of feet between them. That sharp flash of a Ripper-esque grin, and the fact he’d had his glasses off almost the entire time she’d been there… It was as if he were pushing himself more out of control than he’d actually been in the first place.

Why was that?

“They always did say the full moon makes people crazy.” Buffy muttered wryly to herself. She couldn’t spend the rest of the afternoon worrying about Giles. She needed to find Willow and explain this Veruca situation, before things got too out of hand there.

**... ... ...**

By the time Buffy managed to catch up to Oz, the other werewolf - Veruca, Buffy figured, since she’d never been able to find the girl herself - was already lying dead on the stony floor of the crypt, her throat ripped out.

Willow was curled up against the far wall, her eyes wide, beyond fear, far past sobbing. Wolf-Oz was in his cage, the door locked tight, but he was pacing back and forth in agitation, and his jowls were stained with blood.

“Willow?” Buffy hesitantly checked the dead wolf just to make sure, and then crouched in front of her best friend, an arm’s length away so she didn’t alarm her. She was most definitely in shock. “Are you injured? What happened?” Buffy asked slowly, pausing between questions.

Behind her, Oz whined, his claws clicking on the floor as he continued to pace.

“Calm down.” Buffy turned around and ordered him, staring into his eyes. “You’re making her more nervous.”

The wolf snarled it’s teeth, but silently, and after a defiant moment it stalked into the back corner and sat down. It continued to stare at Buffy, and she nodded once before setting the rifle down to the side and reaching her hand out to rest it on Willow’s knee.

“I need to know what happened, here, Will.” Buffy murmured.

After a moment, Willow explained in a shaking voice about how she’d come to the abandoned crypt to talk to Oz before the sun set, but she’d found Veruca instead. Oz had then shown up just as Veruca had apparently gotten physical, and then the two werewolves had gotten into a knock-down fight. Willow had crawled into the corner and done her best to stay out of the way as she watched the brutal battle, which eventually ended in Oz-wolf tearing Veruca-wolf’s throat out with his teeth.

He’d then turned toward Willow, and for a moment Willow was terrified that she was going to be eaten next, but instead he’d apparently scented her, seemed to recognize her, and slunk into his cage. The fact that he locked himself in was what surprised Buffy the most.

“He stopped, mid-blood-lust, for me,” Willow murmured, her tears now in dry, dirty tracks on her face, as she stared over Buffy’s shoulder with something like awe. “Werewolf Oz. The wild beastie. He really does love me.”

“Well… I wouldn’t go buying him chew toys and a water bowl yet,” Buffy drawled, slightly seriously concerned that Willow might become  _ too _ trusting of the wolf too soon.

It growled in annoyance, and they both jumped.

“You insulted him.” Willow accused Buffy, and Buffy chuckled gently, tucking her thumb inside the long sleeve of her shirt and using the cotton to clean up Willow’s face a little.

“That you know that isn’t creepy at all, no way,” Buffy teased gently, and Willow chuckled softly as well. “If you’re okay, I’m going to… take care of the body.”

“I’m okay.” Willow promised, nodding firmly and using her own sweater to wipe at her face now. “I’m gonna… stay until sunrise.”

“You got everything you need?” Buffy checked, and Willow nodded, gesturing over to the side where she’d previously set down her camping gear. “Okay.” Buffy murmured.

She got to her feet, tucking the gun loosely in the crook of her elbow, and observed Oz-wolf closely, more closely than she ever had before. She thought she’d been respecting Oz, giving him his privacy, but maybe not acknowledging the wolf had been an insult, as well.

He stared at her, unblinking, and she nodded once more to him before picking up the dead wolf by a hind leg and dragging it out of the crypt. They kept some spare slaying equipment in the ‘hide-out’ as well, so she grabbed one of the shovels on her way out.

She wasn’t sure if Oz would want to keep his cage in that location now, considering what he’d had to do in there. He’d never taken a life, at least not that he could remember or that anyone knew about, and she was certain he’d never killed a fellow werewolf before. Evil gal aside, it would likely take a toll on him. So, just in case, Buffy dragged the corpse far away to bury it in a place its lingering scent wouldn’t bother him. She took her time digging the hole, and then refilling it, allowing her mind to focus on a particular part of her patrol today that did not make sense to her.

The green beret, who’d gotten in her way and could’ve put Willow or Oz in even more danger, had things gone differently. The outfit that she’d seen once before. The weaponry and the way he carried it.

She needed to see Giles again, and soon.

But first, she’d sit with her best friend until sunrise, and offer whatever support that she needed.

**... ... ...**

Buffy could tell that he’d also been up all night, as soon as he opened the door. He was still wearing the same clothes she’d last seen him in, though they were more rumpled, and the scruff on his jaw could now actually be called scruff.

“Buffy. How- how is everyone?” He asked hesitantly as he let her in. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She shrugged that away; she hadn’t really been in any danger in the first place. “Willow is physically unharmed, though I was worried about her mental state for a minute there… Oz has some scratches, but he’ll survive.”

“A-and the other werewolf?” He wondered, as he gently took the weapon from her and habitually checked the safety before returning it to the cabinet.

“Dead.”

“Dead?” He repeated in surprise, and glanced again toward the cabinet he’d just turned from.

“I ended up not needing the tranquilizers after all…” When Giles realized a story was coming, he went to the kitchen to make tea, preparing it strong and bringing out two cups without asking. She accepted the caffeine - and the comfort - that was his tea, and launched into the tale, explaining what she’d walked in to and then adding what Willow had told her.

She tried not to get too excited or hopeful when he joined her on the couch, and focused on telling him about the mystery soldier guy last. When she eventually finished, Giles was silent for a good minute as he stirred his tea. He had leaned closer to her as she spoke, and his elbow resting against the back of the couch was now well within the ol’ six-inch rule of her curled knees. She was very, very aware of that, but she wondered if it was even conscious on his part.

“I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“There was just so much going on with Oz, and Willow,” Buffy didn’t really understand it either. “And there still is.” She sighed. Oz was getting real wigged about the blurring line between his human self and wolf self. Parts of it were cool, but other parts… hella scary. And they got a fresh dose of that just last night. “But I just thought you should know.”

“W-well this fellow in the woods, he was in- in  _ military garb _ ?” He frowned deeply, perplexed.

“And he was toting some  _ serious  _ weaponry.” He noted that, but she could tell he’d never heard of anything like that in Sunnydale before… this wasn’t the Army. This was something else. “The thing is, I saw some guys dressed exactly like him on Halloween night. I just assumed, you know, they were in costume.”

“But maybe they were working…” Giles followed along with her thought.

“I wanna know what’s up.” Buffy informed him seriously. “The guy got in my way. If things had gone down differently, Oz or Willow could have… and as it was,” She lowered her eyes, “I was too late to -”

“You saved Willow.” Giles interrupted her gently. “She can’t have known that Oz was truly- that the wolf wouldn’t have hurt her, whether intentionally or otherwise. It was good that you were there.”

“And now Oz is leaving to become like,  _ a monk _ or something in hopes to learn how to control the wolf and I- I don’t know how to help her. They aren’t breaking up, but he’s going to be gone - like total out of touch gone - for  _ months  _ probably.” She snorted derisively, “And I can’t even handle two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” He repeated, and didn’t seem to follow until after she tilted her head at him and gave him a look. “Oh.” He hesitated for a moment, and then took his glasses off and leaned forward to set them on the coffee table.

“I… love you.” She told him, hesitant not because she was unsure about her feelings, but because she wasn’t sure how he was going to react to her saying it right now.

“I love you, too.” He murmured, not quite facing her, his eyes unfocused somewhere in the space between the couch and the table.

“Not enough to talk to me?” She asked, and he did look at her then, to frown.

“We’re talking now.” He pointed out, and she gave him that same tilted look again.

“No, we aren’t.”

He took a long drink of his tea, and then set it down on the table beside her empty cup and his glasses.

“Not enough to touch me.” She added quietly, and he made a pained noise under his breath as he rubbed his fingers against his eyes.

“I can’t trust myself to touch you.” He corrected, and she gave him an incredulous look.

“What does that even mean?” She allowed some of her frustration to surface, and he pursed his lips.

“It could’ve gone so much further than it had, Buffy, you have no idea how close. I was mere  _ breaths  _ away from- from- tearing both our clothes off and fucking you against every flat surface in that room.”

“Any?” She blurted, mostly out of shock from his blunt crassness, and he met her gaze.

“ _ Every _ .” He repeated himself. She stared at him, wide-eyed, and then slowly took a steadying breath, trying not to let herself get distractingly aroused by that. He looked away then, and shook his head. “Wesley was right. I’m too… I have so little control around you.”

“And why is that such a big deal?” Buffy demanded, managing to find her voice again. “It’s not even nearly accurate, anyway. We’ve been training together for months,”

“But not the past two weeks,” He noted pointedly.

“W-well, that’s… that’s…” She wasn’t totally sure why that was. She thought it’d been because of regret he’d been feeling, but maybe it was something else. “What about before? In the library? Over the summer? The dorm room wasn’t the first time you and I had made things pretty hot and heavy,”

“It was different.” He stubbornly insisted.

“How?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I wanted you before, I wanted you then, I want you now. What’s the difference?”

“Y- … y-you want me now?” He wondered, sounding almost shy about it, and she stared at him, clenching her fingers around her arms to resist just  _ showing _ him how much. Oz had suggested time, not her usual jump-in-with-both-feet gameplan.

So. Patience.

She gritted her teeth.

“You answer the door after  _ two weeks  _ of a complete and total blackout in communication, looking  _ that _ rumpled and scruffy-faced, and you think I  _ don’t want you _ ?” She snorted derisively. “Maybe you are an idiot.” His eye twitched, but she had no way of knowing if it was because she’d called him an idiot or because she’d told him she wanted him.

“Excuse me for being concerned that I may have  _ taken advantage  _ of you while you were  _ intoxicated _ .” Giles growled out, and she winced. Yep, it was the idiot comment. Too much.

“You didn’t take advantage, Giles. I’ve told you that.”

“Well, I still feel as if I have.

“But  _ I’m  _ sitting here telling you that you  _ didn’t _ .” Buffy insisted. “ _ Me _ , the one mildly involved in a demon spell,”

“Mildly!” Giles repeated in amazement. “You drew  _ stick figures of us having sex on your dorm room wall _ .”

“I can’t believe Xander thought they were sparring,” She snorted, and Giles glared, and she sobered. “Fine, fine - I was very in the ‘id’ zone, I’ll admit that, but I wasn’t a neanderthal, Giles. I wasn’t out of my mind, and I wasn’t anywhere near blackout drunk. I was aware of what was going on around me - and I remember it all, too.”

“Do you?” He replied, his tone difficult to discern, and she quirked a quick smile without humor.

“In Technicolor.”

His eyes widened a little, then, glinting with that bright fire she so loved to see there, but then he turned his face away from her.

“Don’t get me wrong, there are parts I wish I could forget.” Buffy grimaced, and he glanced back toward her hesitantly. “Getting into a six-year-old ‘you’re stupid! no you’re stupid! no you’re stupid!’ fight… hugging a jukebox machine? My  _ obsession _ with bad MTV music videos,” She groaned. “Don’t get me started on my  _ hair _ \- it took me over an hour to get all the knots out the next morning!”

“You remember me then, telling you that it didn’t matter how much you want me on a regular day - you were drunk,  _ that day _ .”

“Look.” Buffy shook her head. “I might not have been able to articulate very well - which, I know, crazy coming from the gal with her own language - but I knew exactly what I wanted. I wasn’t  _ that  _ drunk. My mannerisms were more the spell than the alcohol.”

“As someone who used to use magic for sex, trust me, that doesn’t make it any better.” Giles glowered, and she blinked.

That was it, wasn’t it? That night, the whole scenario put together - he’d been too reminded of his past, hadn’t he? That’s why he was struggling so much with it, and why he seemed so particularly  _ not _ control-guy, yesterday.

He’d felt too much like Ripper, that night, and he hadn’t liked it.

“I’m sorry.” Buffy realized, and uncurled herself from the couch. He looked startled, now, and confused.

“Why are you sorry?” He wondered. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, I do.” She murmured, mentally kicking herself for having pushed too hard this morning anyway, even when she’d promised Oz that she’d take his advice. “I promised I wasn’t going to hurt you, but I did.” Now he looked bewildered.

“When did you hurt me?”

“That night… and now. It isn’t your fault at all - it’s mine. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” He looked like he was about to disagree, and she took a deep breath and said softly without accusation, “You think you’re too close to your younger self. That you're dipping into old habits. You’ve lost control with me before… but you really haven’t, have you? Those were… particularly crafted losses of control. That night, in my dorm room, you weren’t prepared at all for that were you? And it overwhelmed you?”

“Buffy, I- I’d rather not…” He turned his head away, ashamed.

“The id never grows up, Giles.” She told him, still not accusatory. “That’s what I learned in class, anyway. And Ripper was like, Captain Id, right? All about the pleasure? Take what you can, give nothing back?”

“Roughly.” Giles begrudgingly admitted. Buffy already knew quite a lot about his past anyway, so it wasn’t as if he should feel the need to hide it from her.

“That’ll always be a part of you, Giles, somewhere. You have to learn to embrace it. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing - and trust me? It doesn’t scare me.”

“The things I’ve done -”

“I  _ know  _ the things you’ve done,” Buffy reminded him pointedly. “You’ve shared that with me, remember? And  _ those _ things are in the past. I’m not telling you to just let yourself run wild, Giles, geez - just  _ embrace _ the fact that you have wants and desires like the rest of us humans and sometimes they make you do silly stuff.”

“Silly?” Giles repeated. “ _ Silly _ ? Willow would have walked in on us, do you understand that?” He sounded angry, again, his voice rising. “And have you spoken to her about us yet? I have a feeling you haven’t. How do you think she would have reacted to finding me fucking you against your desk? Or  _ her  _ desk? All she would have known is that you drank the cursed beer, and that I, your Watcher, your mentor, your protector, had his pants down ‘round his ankles and was currently shagging his Slayer!”

Buffy stared at him, not even blinking now.

“And honestly,” He sighed deeply, and reached for his cup of tea again as if he were now talking about the weather, “I doubt I would’ve stopped either.”

She stood in place, not sure whether to ask him to clarify, sit back down, or walk out of the house.

“Once I’m inside you, there’s nowhere else I’m going to want to be.” He informed her plainly, and if her eyes  _ could  _ get any wider, they would’ve. “I’ll tell the  _ whole world  _ to bugger off so I can keep you in my bed  _ for days _ , Buffy. Do you understand, now, why I’m trying to control this aspect of our relationship right now? Why I can’t be around you? My mind is stuck on you, Buffy. And I have a very vivid imagination.”

It took her a good couple of minutes to find her voice after processing all of that, and in the meantime, he sat there and drank his tea as if that conversation had been completely normal for him.

“And these- these are… reasons why we  _ shouldn’t _ get together right now?” She checked, and he darted his eyes up toward her without moving his head.

“I’ve told you before, Buffy, that I- I want our first time together to be- …I don’t want it to be a mad dash, or a- a race,” He sighed as he set his now empty tea cup back on the table, and murmured, “I want to make love to you, Buffy.”

“And… right now you…?” She figured.

“Right now, I’m not so… patient.” He confirmed.

“Well, maybe I’m not so patient either, Giles.” She informed him warningly. “I’ve been trying, you know, because I know that you want- well, and I  _ do  _ think it’s sweet - really, it is, it- it- it makes me love you even more than I thought I could.” She took a breath, to keep her voice level. “But if you’re more focused on the  _ idea  _ about something, than about  _ me _ simply standing in front of you, then… then I don’t know what to tell you.”

His brow furrowed deeply as he looked up at her, concern tinting his features now.

“I’m not just an idea, Giles. Or a dream. I’m a real person, and I want our first time together to be as wonderful as possible for you, too. But you’re- you’re- putting these expectations on it,”

“Not on you,” He quickly assured her, but she shook her head a little.

“Maybe not intentionally, but…” It  _ was _ making her a bit anxious. He wanted things so perfect for her, well, what if she wasn’t perfect enough for him? “It takes two to tango Giles, and even the perfect leader couldn’t make a dance flawless if the partner is- is… mediocre.”

“ _ Buffy _ ,” He chided, looking appalled that she would even suggest such a thing, and she shook her head more firmly.

“Maybe that’s what’s happening, here,” She wondered aloud, and began to pace across the floor in front of the bar as the wheels in her mind took off, “You- you don’t want to take things further because- because what we’ve been doing has been fun, and, and pretty good, but if you sleep with me and realize maybe I’m not so good  _ there _ and you don’t want to hurt my feelings because you love me but you can’t stand how inexperienced I am in bed- ”

“Buffy!” Giles loudly interrupted her tirade, standing from the couch. “That is  _ not _ what I think, and I would  _ never _ think -”

“You kept reminding me, all summer,” She swallowed down her shaky tone of voice and continued, “that if I f-find someone, that you wouldn’t be - that you would _understand_ \- God, is that what you meant?” She stared at him, pausing near his desk. She’d had to ask _Willow_ for sex advice, after all! The girl who could barely even _say_ the word ‘sex’ even though she was having it with Oz. “Have you been- been trying to, to,” She shook her head a bit incredulously, “get me to- _earn more_ _experience_?”

He just stared at her, silently, his brow still furrowed and his eyes wide.

Had Buffy been thinking clearly, she’d remember that Giles quite easily and enthusiastically responded to her kisses and her touches, and that she’d never doubted that before.

But he hasn’t come near her in two weeks, and now she was convincing herself that her memories of their moments together were skewed; colored with her own emotions and desires. She didn’t doubt Giles’ love for her… but maybe he didn’t  _ enjoy _ her as much as she thought he did.

Her own eyes widening, Buffy turned on her heel and went for the door. She heard a noise come out of his throat, but it wasn’t even a full word, and when she tugged the door closed behind her and hurried through the courtyard, she didn’t hear him say anything else or move to stop her.


	20. Chapter 19 (The Initiative)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This "interlude" is in Giles' POV.

“Hm.” Giles stared down at his sketchbook, his elbow propped on his knee and head in hand. “Based on Buffy’s description, I believe the men that we’re after look something like, um…” He scribbled his pencil over the gun he’d drawn in the man’s hand, finishing it up before setting the sketchbook up where Xander could see it. “This.”

“The latest in fall fascism.” He drawled after leaning forward in the reading chair to take a look. “I like it. A bit full in the hips for my taste, but -”

“I think we can safely assume they’re human.” Giles interrupted before he could really get going. He wasn’t really in the mood for Xander’s sense of humor, today. “So… no research needed.” He flopped the sketch pad onto his knee and slouched against the back cushion, reaching for his mug of tea balanced on the arm of the couch.

“No studying? Damn!” Xander sat back as well. “Next thing you’ll tell me is I’ll have to eat jelly doughnuts or brew gallons of tea to get anything done around here. I ask you, how much can one man give?”

“Not too much, I’m afraid.” Giles sighed. “Once again I’d say that you and I will not be needed to help Buffy.” He reached forward to snag the last bit of muffin from his plate, chewing despondently.

“Really?” Xander seemed legitimately surprised.

“Really.” Giles muttered.

He’d always hated it when Buffy was angry with him, but it was worse now that they were… or, had been… or, were almost… together. And now she was not only angry, but hurt as well. And it was his own damn fault and his stupid habit of getting tongue-tied in the worst possible moments.

He tried calling her room a few times this morning, but she’d never answered… and the one time Willow did, apparently Buffy wasn’t available.

“Well, how about this?” Xander snapped closed the compendium he’d been reading and sat forward in the chair again. “We whip out the ouija board, light a few candles, summon some ancient, unstoppable evil. Mayhem, mayhem, mayhem. We show up and kick its ass!”

Giles gave him a look, chewing silently, and Xander’s excitement deflated. As he flopped back against his seat again, the front door opened, revealing, to his surprise, Buffy.

“Wee bit unethical.” He pointed out to Xander as he quickly swallowed the food in his mouth and reached for his sketchpad again, wanting something to keep his hands busy, something he could pretend to put most of his focus toward.

“Hello, people.” Buffy greeted, her tone a bit falsely cheerful.

“Hey.” Xander sighed. Giles didn’t say anything, not sure what to say. He hadn’t expected her to just show up of her own volition… and he didn’t want Xander around for the conversation they needed to have.

“Hmm.” She mused, right over his shoulder, and he glanced up to find her standing next to his end of the couch, leaning over a little to check out his drawing. Her nearness made him breathless. “It’s my late-night storm trooper pal.”

“It- it’s just for reference, you know,” He stammered, turning his gaze back to the sketch. “B-but fairly accurate, you’d say?” He couldn’t keep himself from glancing back up to her again briefly. Her hair looked particularly lovely, today…

“That’s your man.” She confirmed softly.

“Your man, actually,” Giles pointed out, sitting forward again to set the sketch on the table and put a little distance between the two of them. She was acting fairly well but if he kept revealing his nervousness then Xander would start asking questions. “You are patrolling, tonight?” He checked.

“Nope.” Buffy replied, and he raised his eyebrow in surprise at her casual denial, watching as she rounded the end table to stand closer to both his and Xander’s seats. “I am going to a party tonight. Hopefully a ‘no fighting, no biting’ kind of deal.” She stood almost right next to him, now, having stopped right in front of the armrest, and he tugged his glasses off of his face anxiously.

Her presence made him ache in ways he knew he did not deserve. He covered his nerves (and the other feelings) with the annoyance he felt as her Watcher at her careless attitude.

“Buffy, somebody’s got to find out who these people are.” He pointed out warningly. Why did she come here, after ignoring his calls, just to inform them that she was going to a party? To entice an argument? To break up with him, completely? He’d deserve that.

“Giles. I live in a dorm now. The girls in my hall want to party, Willow needs some cheering up. I’m  _ going _ to take her.”

“Ah.” He looked away, chagrined a bit. To be fair, these military guys didn’t seem to be posing an immediate threat, and Willow’s mental health and happiness was important to him, too. Maybe she’d come over to talk about Willow some more.

“How’s Will dealing -”

“With the black hole of despair she’s been living in?” Buffy finished Xander’s question on her own, and Giles winced. He could tell by her tone that she wasn’t only talking about Willow. “She’s dealing. I’m helping. It’s hard. Ergo, party.” He could feel the weight of her gaze back on him, but he couldn’t meet it. “You two can take patrol,”

His phone started ringing, then, startling them all.

“Oh yeah,” Xander laughed, “I forgot Giles had a phone.”

“You called me this afternoon to check that I was home,” Giles reminded him dryly, raising his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah.” Xander mused again, and Giles rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to answer it?” Buffy wondered, and he nodded and stood, but hesitated for a moment.

They were facing each other now, hardly a foot of space between them, and he felt breathless again as he looked down at her. Even with Xander here, he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and assure her -

The phone suddenly clicked, and Giles grimaced, brought back into focus. He quickly rounded the other side of the couch, heading for his desk, knowing it was too late to grab the call.

“Bloody machine Willow bought me; I still haven’t got it set up properly,” He grumbled as he reached the desk just as the recorder beeped. “It cuts the ring short much too quickly,”

“Well hello, Ripper,” A mildly amused, slightly sultry voice spoke pleasantly through the answering machine, and Giles’ hand froze over the receiver. “It’s Olivia. You’re a difficult man to get a hold of these days. You did say if I ever found myself in L.A. to let you know... well, here I am, and with no date to my premiere... I couldn’t pass through sunny Cal without looking you up. What do you say? Tag along for old time’s sake? As I’m sure you remember, I can promise it’s gonna be fun... Are you there? …Call me, luv.”

Olivia Williams? He hadn’t heard that voice in years. For a moment, he was delighted at the familiar sound of an old friend.

And then from the corner of his eye he caught the look of surprise on Buffy’s face. Surprise, and hurt. He realized he was smiling a little bit, and immediately stopped.

“Who is  _ that _ ? She sounds  _ hot _ !” Xander wondered, excited and interested.

“She was, um, a uh, an acquaintance of mine back when I- I worked at- at the museum,” Giles stammered awkwardly, uncomfortable and frustrated about the horribly unlucky timing of everything happening in this moment.

“Rupert Giles!” Xander exclaimed, laughing. “Doesn’t sound like just an acquaintance  _ to me _ ,” He then crooned in a way Giles found very obnoxious, “‘I can promise it’s gonna be fun,  _ as I’m sure you can remember _ ’ - Giles! Do tell!”

“Absolutely not.” Giles grumbled, knowing that he was blushing. He lowered his eyes, unwilling to see how Buffy might be looking at him now. Olivia was an old flame, from when he was living a different life. But with Xander there, he didn’t feel comfortable being completely open about his feelings and assurances that he absolutely loves Buffy and no one else -  _ wants _ no one else.

“Who’s Olivia?” Buffy wondered carefully, after they all had been silent for a few moments.

“An old friend.” Giles replied softly, inwardly begging her not to pry further… he was fine with telling Buffy about his past, even his past lovers, but not in front of Xander.

“Oh.” Buffy had obviously recognized the tone and clear proposition in Olivia’s message. “Are you gonna call her back?”

“…Yes.” Giles answered, unable to lie to her, and she looked at him in surprise - probably that he answered her question instead of avoiding it. As Giles opened his mouth to explain that the call would be to tell Olivia that what she was looking for wasn’t available, Xander made an approving sort of whistling sound.

“Yeah, you should! Get on that, Giles!”

“Xander!” Giles snapped, blushing in his discomfort. Buffy wouldn’t look at him now, and the expression on her face was difficult for him to read.

“What? Dude - you  _ gotta  _ have some fun every once in a while. She  _ clearly _ wants some of that Giles action! What have you got to lose?”

“I need to go,” Buffy announced, clearly hurting, and Giles tensed.

“Wait-”

“Even the Slayer’s taking a night off,” Xander continued, thinking he was being a great support, “Go on, Giles! I can do a little recon on my own.”

“Xander,  _ be quiet _ !” Giles huffed, glaring at him as Buffy brushed by him headed for the door. “Buffy, hold on,”

“If- if you’ll excuse me, I need to… to go find something slutty to wear tonight.” She was out the door without another word, without even looking at him.

Giles stood very still, slowly clenching his fist as he restrained the urge to turn around and shout at Xander. It wasn’t Xander’s fault, really.

He just didn’t know how to read the bloody room.

“I’ll meet you at your place for patrol later tonight.” Giles muttered lowly, and Xander nodded as he set the book in his hands on the coffee table and hopped up to head toward the door as well.

“Sure thing. I uh… you and Buffy fighting, again?” He asked hesitantly as he paused next to him, and Giles closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry.” Xander murmured, still sounding pretty confused about it. “Um… anyway, good luck with your lady friend.” He awkwardly patted Giles’ shoulder, who didn’t open his eyes until he heard the front door close again.

After a minute, he opened his eyes, and stared at the phone. Olivia… at one point, they’d been rather serious. But she was a different class than he; mostly fascinated in the ‘bad-boy’ he’d kept only partially hidden back in those days. She hadn’t wanted to be saddled with a curator of a museum, even if she had secretly found his work fascinating. It didn’t fit with her image. So, in his last years in England they’d been more friends-with-benefits than anything else.

And he had, admittedly, told her that if she ever found herself in California for a show…

A part of him whispered that if Buffy could go to a party, then so could he. He immediately silenced that thought, however, because he knew where an evening out with Olivia would end. For all he knew, Buffy was being serious about only going out to help Willow feel better. The ‘slutty clothes’ comment had felt more like a barb for him than anything meant literally.

He sighed at the phone, still hesitating. Tea, first. Tea would help.

**... ... ...**

Giles fiddled with the comic book in his hands, not entirely comfortable to be standing in Xander’s basement. They’d fought monsters and faced death together, they’d patched up one another's wounds and they’d even, on the rare occasion, had a deep and meaningful conversation or two. But even with the summer the Scoobies had spent together, he was still coming to terms with the fact that, yes, they were younger than he, but he did truly consider them as friends.

Still, the basement had all the familiar trappings of a young man’s sanctuary; organized piles of clutter, hastily made bed, empty packages of snacks lying about… and while the laundry machines kept away the musty smell of dirty clothes, the room smelled like sex.

And Giles couldn’t stop thinking of Buffy. Buffy, looking at him with the heat of desire and the tender warmth of love, all at once, in a way he’d never quite seen from a woman before. Not at the same time, and never with such depth. Her strong thighs, gripping his hips and holding him right where she wanted him, her soft breasts in his hands. Her nipples against his tongue, her scent filling his nose. The way her breathing would quietly speed up as she drew near to orgasm. The sound of her voice, sighing in pleasure, as if his name belonged to her.

In his mind, of course, it did. Every part of him belonged to her, and always would. No matter what happened… And if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what was going to happen between them now. Past experiences told him that Buffy needed a little space after an argument, but he didn’t want this Olivia misconception to fester… any more than he wanted Buffy to continue thinking he might judge _her_ _experience_.

“Here we go, gear for tonight.” Xander announced as he began pulling out reconnaissance gear and weaponry from beneath a table. Giles’ attention was brought out of his mulling for a moment, and he raised his eyebrow dubiously as he tossed the comic book onto the pile in a milk crate at his feet. “If some commando squads are out there, fully loaded, these babies might give us the edge we’ll need.”

“That’s a very impressive array.” Giles noted warily, then spying a bag of doritos that still had some chips left. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know, but he had to ask, “Where’d it all come from?”

“Uh, requisitioned it.” Xander replied as he fiddled with a flare gun. “Back when I was military guy.”

Giles immediately regretted his decision to snack as he bit into a stale chip, and dropped the bag onto the end of the sofa-bed as he grimaced and swallowed down the bite.

“That was two years ago. You still one-hundred percent?” He wondered dubiously as he approached the table Xander had piled equipment on top of.

“Are you kidding?” Xander gave Giles a look. “I put the  _ semper _ in  _ semper fi _ . I might not be able to assemble an M-16 blindfolded like I used to or, pass weapons drill for the mobile infantry,”

Giles sighed quietly as he watched Xander struggle for a moment longer, and then took the flare gun from him to pop the chamber open and check that it was clear. He spied a flare sitting on the table and loaded it, securing the chamber again before handing the gun back to Xander.

“Might as well face it. Right now I don’t have the technical skills to join the Swiss Army.” Xander accepted the gun, looking at Giles a little sideways as he did so. Giles didn’t offer up any explanations. He definitely wasn’t in the mood to talk about his early Council days. “And all those guys ask you to do is uncork a couple of sassy cabernets.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be ready when the time comes.” Giles replied, smiling a little at Xander’s joke. When he wasn’t being annoying, or sticking his foot in it, he could be quite funny. And Giles didn’t really blame him for what happened earlier… Xander had no way of knowing what was going on with him and Buffy. He was a boisterous young man, probably trying to live a little vicariously through Giles and his mysterious female friends.

“Oh, fear not. Hand to hand? I’m still the man.” Xander assured. “Whoever these guys trained with, I’m sure they’re not ready to deal with -”

“Xander!” His mother called out from upstairs, and Xander grimaced.

“Yes, Mom!” He asked.

“I made a nice fruit punch for you and your friend. Would you boys like some?”

Xander blushed a little bit and looked apologetic, and while Giles was briefly amused and unsettled to have someone his own age calling him ‘boy’, the prospect of something sweet and cool to drink was enticing. Plus, he’d take anything to wash down that stale chip.

“Is it, uh, raspberry fruit punch?” Giles asked hopefully up the stairs.

“Strawberry! But I have a raspberry lemonade!”

Giles hesitated, and as if reading his mind Xander murmured,

“It’s not as good as Buff’s lemonade, but still decent. I’d recommend it.” He set the flare gun on the table and gestured toward the stairs, then called up to his mom, “Coming!”

“It’s on the counter! I’m running to the store to pick up something for your father!”

“That’s code for beer.” Xander informed Giles as they trudged up out of the basement.

Giles knew he was moping again, but he couldn’t help it. He just kept thinking about how proud Buffy had been when she’d first made lemonade for the gang… and everyone’s reactions to it, how happy that had made her… how happy Giles had felt in that moment, that his Slayer, his  _ Buffy _ , had been truly carefree.

Xander pulled out some cheese and meat slices from the fridge for them to snack on as Giles poured their drinks, and they sat quietly at the kitchen table for a few minutes before the young man eventually broke the silence,

“So, did you call your sexy lady friend?” He asked with excited interest, and Giles sighed heavily. He was amazed Xander had waited this long to ask.

“Xander, you have no idea what she looks like.”

“She sounded very posh. Definitely British. And she mentioned some kind of show? Is she an actress? Model?”

“She… models -” Giles begrudgingly admitted, and Xander interrupted as he leaned in,

“ _ Lingerie _ ?”

“No.” Giles answered dryly. Xander sat back in his seat again, disappointed, but only briefly.

“Guess that doesn’t really matter.  _ A model _ ! Wow!” Xander looked at him as if he didn’t know him, and Giles flushed a little and looked away. “How long have you known her?  _ How  _ do you know her?”

Giles sighed again. He really did not want to talk to Xander about this, still, but he did want to dissuade him from continuing to tease about Olivia.

“I’ve told you. She interned at the museum I worked at, before I moved to Sunnydale. We were… friends.”

“Friends?” Xander gave him a dubious look. “Yeah, that message sounded  _ real friendly _ .”

“Xander, please.” Giles set his cup down and gave Xander a serious look. Realizing he’d done something too much, his smile fell away, though he looked a little confused. “Olivia was a long time ago. That isn’t my life, anymore. Besides that, she knows nothing about what I do for a living.”

“Ah.” Xander nodded slowly, ducking his head apologetically. “But… she still seems interested, even after the time away?” He tried, and Giles sent him a half-smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes.

“Olivia is interested in casual sex,” He replied bluntly, “and I am not. I- I haven’t actually called her back, yet.”

“Uh… oh.” Xander looked surprised, for a moment - probably that Giles had been so open. “Why not?”

“Excuse me?” Giles almost spluttered on his lemonade and raised his eyebrow at the young man, who blushed.

“I mean, you of all people deserve a little reprieve from the Hellmouth. She was looking for a date to a premiere, Giles, not a husband. Why not go? Have a good time? We can watch over Sunnydale for an evening or two while you’re out of town.”

Giles was actually touched that Xander was so earnest about his happiness.

“Xander…” Giles smiled softly, a little more genuine this time. “I appreciate the offer, and the… concern, but I’m simply not interested in pursuing any kind of relationship right now,” - aside from Buffy - “casual or otherwise.”

“Is it… because of Ms. Calendar?” Xander wondered quietly.

“No.” Giles assured him gently. “And we’ll leave this conversation as it is, yes?” He gave Xander a look, and the boy nodded. “Now, why don’t you tell me more about these supplies you’ve gathered downstairs.”

**... ... ...**

After he and Xander split ways, Giles meandered the park slowly, keeping an ear out for any threatening noises as his mind wandered.

He didn’t entirely understand where Buffy’s self-doubt had come from. Sure, she’d only been with Angel - at least as far as he knew, and he had no reason to assume otherwise - but was she not already aware of how she affected him? How he was constantly thinking about her, far beyond his duties as her Watcher? How she made him feel like a randy boy again, all fumbling about and nerves?

He wasn’t a teenaged boy, though. He hadn’t been, for a number of years. She’d insisted that didn’t both her, but her summer had been very… insular. Now she was surrounded by men her own age, from all over the country, with varieties of talents and desires… men he’d stupidly told her to not feel guilty about being interested in if she found herself so. She hadn’t acted interested in any of them, but if she thought he was pushing her away… maybe she’d start looking at them a little closer.

She’d been completely right, of course, about his feelings of self-control - or lack thereof. But he  _ wasn’t _ twenty anymore and he  _ couldn’t _ get caught shagging her in her dorm room. He definitely could have handled that situation better, though. Maybe forced his tongue into motion and actually told her out loud how much he loved her.

Even under the effects of a spell,  _ and _ alcohol, she’d made sure to tell him. Her words had been simple but they were earnest, and it’d been obvious that her desires hadn’t been pure lust that night… she loved him. And her conversation with him later reiterated that fact. 

“Bloody pillock.” He grumbled to himself, kicking a pinecone across the grass.

And now she was blaming herself for pushing him too hard. The problem was, she hadn’t needed to push him at all. He was already there, he was  _ always _ there, wanting her.

He’d put too much expectation on himself and somehow it had poured over onto her.

And now -

“Giles!”

“Damn.” He snapped back into focus and darted off in the direction of Xander’s yelp, pulling the stake from his jacket pocket without thought.

**... ... ...**

He saw Buffy and Willow sitting together beneath the shade of one of the trees, and hesitated. Buffy was laughing about something, and Willow had a smile on her face too.

He was pleased to see the both of them smiling, but Buffy… Buffy especially. He rubbed his hand against his chest for a moment, the ache in his heart like a physical pain. He took a deep breath to settle himself, and began to approach the girls again. He needed to tell them what he and Xander had discovered about Spike.

“Did you see Riley at the party last night?” Willow’s voice reached him, her tone aloof.

“Yeah - I saw you two chatting on the couch for a while.” Buffy grinned. “Didn’t miss him getting the music changed for you, too. That’s really sweet, Willow. I think he might have a crush.”

“Oh, uh,” Willow laughed awkwardly, turning a little red. “He’s got a crush alright - but not on  _ me _ .” It took Buffy a minute, but then she froze, her smile dropping.

“ _ Me _ ?” She exclaimed, sounding almost horrified. Giles’ feet came to a stop, again.

“Uh huh,” Willow nodded, her grin widening. “I mean don’t get me wrong, he was very sweet to me. He knows I miss Oz, and that Dingoes song on the radio wasn’t really helping… but he also knows I love Oz. He thinks we’re in a long-distance relationship now.”

“You are.” Buffy frowned. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but Riley doesn’t know  _ the details _ , obviously.”

“Right.” Buffy paused for a long moment. “Why do you think he has a crush on me?”

“Are you kidding?” Willow snorted. “Besides the fact that he told me he wanted to  _ court you _ ?”

Willow began to list her examples of the reasons why this Riley fellow liked Buffy, but Giles could only watch the way Buffy’s face paled slightly. He was sure that he knew exactly why, too.

_ “A big part of me would prefer the two of you keep this on a courting level for a while, but…” _

As if she were remembering Joyce’s words in her own head as well, Giles watched as Buffy pressed her lips together, and then completely blanked her expression. A second later, she was wearing a tiny smile of amusement again, and shaking her head at Willow as if she thought she was being silly.

“C’mon, Buffy, you can’t deny the man’s cuteness! And he was so nervous about you!” Willow swooned. “He even asked me if you’ve ever said anything about him,”

“He’s not  _ cute _ , he’s a doof… What did you tell him?” Buffy wondered nervously.

Giles took a step back, changing his mind about approaching them. She was in no danger from the vampire during the day. He could call her later, closer to nightfall and when she might be expecting something from him of the patrolling variety.

He’d just wanted to see her…

Out of earshot from the girls again, he lingered just a little longer, watching Willow elbow Buffy and Buffy duck her head and smile, curling her hair behind her ear.

He insisted to himself that she was just pleased to hear what Willow was saying to her, as any woman would be. Everyone likes to hear that they’re desirable. It wasn’t because she was actually interested in the boy, herself.

His brain kept repeating that, but his chest still hurt.

He turned on his heel and headed back toward the Magic Box. He’d told Anya he’d only be out to lunch for forty-five minutes, and he didn’t feel like dealing with her fussing if he was even a minute late.

Honestly, sometimes he wondered if  _ she _ wasn’t  _ his _ boss.

**... ... ...**

Giles smiled as he listened to John Lee Hooker playing him into consciousness from the clock radio on the bedside table. He complained often about American pop music, but no one could deny they knew their blues. He basked in the warm sunlight he could feel peeking through the curtains, stretching lazily, not wanting to open his eyes yet… 

He’d had the most wonderful dream. Buffy had come over after an uneventful patrol, they’d talked, apologized… and she’d come upstairs and they’d made love for hours. It had been the kind of lovely dream that left him in a heady daze of ‘the happies’, as the Scoobies would call it.

He jerked his eyes open then, and flipped the bedsheet off his legs, staring down at his boxers. The darkened wet spot was incriminating enough, and he sighed heavily.

“Damn.” He got to his feet and bundled up his sheets, piling them by the stairs along with his boxers before pulling on a fresh pair. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d come in his sleep. “Shouldn’t be surprised.” He chuckled wryly to himself as he took his things downstairs to the wash. “All she has to do is brush her fingers against my arm, and I could get an erection. I’m like a bloody sixteen year-old.”

He got the machine started and went to the kitchen to prepare his tea, next.

“And she thinks I don’t want her? Some days I feel like all I do is want her.” He sighed again, more sadly this time. “…And that’s what scares me.”

It took a cup and a half of tea before he was fully resolved - he would meet with Buffy today. Find her during her free period and be honest about his  _ own _ insecurities, and that they had nothing to do with her. He needed to stop being worried of his past… she’d already promised him that  _ she  _ wasn’t.

**... ... ...**

He was surprised to find a group of people he didn’t recognize sitting around her at the picnic table. They had books and papers out, telling him it was some kind of study group, and that surprised him even more. He paused to watch her interacting with this non-Scooby group, and he was pleased that it seemed she was making more friends in college.

The group listened attentively as she said something, and when he expected laughter or amazement from a story, he instead watched most of them nod, and a few jot something down in their notes.

Hell, she was  _ leading  _ this study group, it seemed. His heart felt overwhelmed with love and pride in her. He was so glad that she’d decided to push for attending college - this was clearly good for her. She wasn’t just  _ surviving  _ school now, she was  _ thriving _ .

The meeting came to an end and everyone began packing up, and Giles noted the young man who most appeared to match Willow’s description of the psychology t.a., and how his gaze continued to shyly stray in Buffy’s direction more than once. One of the other guys elbowed him, and spoke, but he shook his head and looked nervous.

A dark-haired boy hopped to his feet as soon as Buffy did, gesturing toward the building, and she visibly hesitated before shrugging and nodding. He grinned and slung his bag over his far shoulder, lifting his closest hand to Buffy’s arm for a moment as he said something to her.

His hand lingered before eventually dropping, and Buffy laughed at whatever he’d said, glancing back to wave goodbye to the rest of the group before walking off with tall, dark, and touchy.

Those that remained at the table, guys and girls alike, watched the couple a bit distastefully, shaking their heads. Giles squinted curiously, wondering, but he caught Riley’s face again looking especially troubled.

For a moment, Giles felt a kinship with him. They were both watching the girl they like walk away with another guy.

**... ... ...**

“I hung around to keep an eye on her, but Spike never showed up.” Xander informed Giles as he munched on a cookie.

“Oh, good.” Giles sighed in relief, and removed his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes.

“Yeah, very good, because teutonic boy-toy did.”

“Who?” Giles frowned, and Xander gestured vaguely as he chewed.

“Tall, smiles way too much, very Captain America. I don’t like him.” Xander announced definitively, and while Giles was sure that Xander didn’t know enough about the other man to judge him, he felt a sense of pride in Xander’s decision anyway.

So. The t.a. had perhaps won out against the dark-haired boy. 

“Did he… see her fighting?” Giles worried, needing to be the Watcher first, no matter what coiled in the pit of his stomach.

“Nah. They just sat on a bench for a while and talked.” Xander shrugged, taking another cookie.

That didn’t make him feel better. Riley obviously had a crush on her… or on Willow. But considering it was Buffy that he was hanging out on park benches in the middle of the night with, talking for hours…

“You okay, G-man? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I- possibly a spot of f-food poisoning,” Giles half-smiled apologetically. “I’ll be fine. P-perhaps you should go,”

“Sure, sure. Feel better, huh? I’ll see you tomorrow maybe.” Xander took his empty tea cup to the kitchen before grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

“Let me know when you’ve made it home?” Giles told him, and he nodded and patted his front pocket.

“All staked up and ready to go. I’ll call ya.” Xander promised.

Once the door was closed and he was alone, Giles lay back on his couch and groaned, covering his eyes with his arm.

“You old fool.” He whispered.


	21. Chapter 20 (A New Man)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I begin to switch up the episode order a bit!

He was kissing her before she even realized what was happening. They were supposed to be studying in her dorm room, and he’d been lamenting about his life, and she’d been responding with the appropriate sympathetic noises (or at least, she hoped), and then suddenly he was leaning against her and kissing her without reservation.

He actually wasn’t so bad at it, but his mouth felt alien against hers and just _wrong_.

"Wait- " Buffy put her hand against his chest and pushed him back, straightening. He gave her a confused look. "No, we're not doing this."

"We're not?" Parker repeated, flummoxed. If she wasn't so fraught with her own emotions, she'd have noticed the frustrated glint in his eye. "Sorry, I didn't mean- we can take it slow," His tone was promising, but he slipped his hand over her thigh and leaned in as if to kiss her again.

"No slow." Buffy grabbed his hand and put it back on his own leg, standing up and stepping away from her bed. "No go."

"I don't understand." Parker stood as well, outwardly looking frustrated now.

"I don't want to do this." Buffy informed him, and he made a face as if he were hurt, but it didn't quite set right. She wasn't sure if it was the eyebrows, or what.

"You can't just- change your mind like that," He almost whined, slowly stepping close to her, reaching out for her.

“I'm not changing my mind; I never said- look, I’m sorry if you thought otherwise, but I’m not interested in you that way.” Buffy told him firmly, keeping her hands to the side and not stepping back even though her natural reaction was to. He was attempting to back her against her closet door, but she was going to leave herself room to fend him off if she needed to. His body language was not matching up with his tone of voice or his words, and it was making her spidey senses go haywire.

Parker stopped his approach, whether sensing something in her hard gaze or something else, and he squared his shoulders. Suddenly, he was a completely different person standing in front of her.

"Fine. You're a tease, Summers. Nobody wants somebody who won't give out every now and then." He left the room surprisingly quietly, as opposed to the stomping or slamming door she would have expected, and she stared at her empty doorway incredulously.

“You're wrong.” She murmured, and then grimaced as she wiped her fingers against her mouth. She turned around and headed for her bathroom, brushing her teeth _and_ swishing some mouthwash. Parker wasn’t her boyfriend, anyway! What right did he have to say anything about her ‘giving out’ or not? They were supposed to be study partners… Buffy growled in annoyance at her reflection in the mirror as she scrubbed at her teeth.

Six minutes later, she called Giles. Regardless of whatever was going on between them, she just needed to hear his comforting voice…

_“Buffy? Everything all right?”_

Right. It was a little early to be calling for a patrol report, and she didn't normally call for anything else, otherwise. Not now, after all the awkwardness of Cave-Buffy… followed by his distance, and her hurt and anger…

Buffy missed him, as much as she tried not to. They hadn’t been able to find any alone time to talk things out. She kept telling herself that the Magic Box was drumming up steady customers, and he was busy now. Technically, she was too… when she remembered her homework.

She supposed she should just be happy that he was answering her patrol calls now. She just had to keep being patient…

“I just… wanted to hear your voice.” Buffy admitted softly, cringing as she pulled her feet up onto the bed and sat against the wall with her knees against her chest. That was possibly one of the cheesiest things she's ever said.

_“Buffy? Have you been body-snatched by a demon?”_

“Har, har,” Buffy rolled her eyes. “You've been watching too many movies with Xander!”

His tease lightened the mood, though, and Buffy loved him for that. He was no doubt also down in the dumps, but he managed to help her anyway. They talked for a few moments about classes, but Giles grew suspicious again eventually, which was inevitable.

_“Are you sure you're alright?”_ Giles wondered gently.

“I…” She fiddled with the hem of her pajama pants at her ankle. “I want to come over. I want to talk.”

_“Buffy…”_ He sighed softly. _“It's not a good idea, and you know it.”_ What, was he back on that kick of trying to draw the line at them waiting to become fully intimate together until after college? There was _no way_ she was gonna wait that long, not when she could still so clearly picture the face he’d made as he’d come in his pants in the high school parking lot, or against her hand in the car, or… Not when she’d had a taste of how wonderful he could make her feel.

“So what?” Buffy huffed. “It's _you_ , Giles. If it's a bad idea then it's the best damn bad idea in the world. I've had far worse ideas, trust me.”

_“You aren't old enough to have far worse ideas,”_ Giles' short laugh was toward himself, not at her. _“There are things that I've done... when I wasn't much older than you,”_

“Not old enough?” Buffy raised her eyebrow, refusing to let him get on his self-deprecation kick again. “How old does one have to be to decide to have sex with a vampire? To then be the reason for that vampire to go full-tilt evil and murder innocent people and attempt to destroy the world?”

_“You aren't to blame for a curse you knew nothing about, and you know that, too.”_

“How old does one have to be to stop the apocalypse, one or two or five times? How old does one have to be to _die_?”

_“Buffy, please.”_ Giles begged. He hated it whenever Buffy used the 'd' word.

“I love you, Giles.” Buffy informed him. “That hasn't changed.”

_“Nor for me.”_ His voice had softened exponentially, and she could just picture the face he was making.

The face that always made her want to grab him and kiss him and never let him go.

“I just… I needed some space, after the… I didn’t want you to think I was just being all horny Buffy again.” Buffy admitted. And then she’d gotten all panicky and started thinking ridiculous things… where did she even begin? This was why she wanted to talk to him face to face.

_“Perhaps we both took advantage of the situation, Buffy.”_ He appeased her insistence, but insisted himself, _“I don’t blame you for anything.”_

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, either.” She murmured. He sighed softly, but then changed the subject to patrol and their mysterious soldiers.

Frustrated as she was with the whole confusing Giles thing, she did feel better after hanging up the phone. He’d sounded as if he were coming around… forgiving himself - not that he needed to - for what happened in her dorm room.

She decided that on Friday, she would skip out on study group and go to the Magic Box. And she wasn’t gonna leave until Giles felt that he could trust himself being around her again.

**— — —**

“Hey,” Xander surprised Buffy during her lunch break a couple days after the phone call, sliding into the bench seat next to her. Buffy eyed the tray of food he brought with him.

"How in the world...?"

"I have my charms," Xander quipped, and then said, "I just wanted to let you know you don't have to worry about that Parker guy."

"What?" Buffy startled. "What Parker guy?" Did Xander know what had happened? How did Xander know?

"Theee one you pointed out to me a few weeks ago? 'The Guy With The Good Hair'? Yeah, well, he won't be blabbing his mouth anymore."

"Oh, that Parker." Buffy had forgotten that Xander and Willow had both been there during one of the first few times she'd seen Parker on campus. "Wait. Blabbing his mouth?"

"You know," Xander leaned closer and lowered his voice, "About you two. He was being a real - well, actually Giles called him a lot of words but the only one I vaguely recognized was 'pillock' - and I know enough that's not a good name."

"He was- Giles called him a- wait." Buffy shook her head, trying to straighten things out. "Parker was saying stuff about me and him? What stuff? There _is_ no me and him."

"Come on," Xander shrugged. "He might be a sleaze-ball but I don't blame you for looking past that. He's obviously your type."

"My _type_?" Buffy raised her eyebrow incredulously.

"Yeah, you know. Older, tall, great hair."

"What..." She closed her eyes and refrained from arguing with him, moving on. "Whatever you heard him saying, it wasn't true." She insisted seriously. "Look, I was nice to him, we chatted a little, studied together - but there wasn't anything else." Not anything that mattered, anyway. He kissed her, she turned him down, he left.

"Seriously?" Xander glowered darkly. "Then I'm _really_ glad I knocked his lights out."

"You- what?!" Buffy gaped at him.

"He was saying some really crude stuff, Buffy. I'm your best friend, your big brother! I don't stand for that."

Buffy was touched by that, and smiled at Xander, but then her smile froze.

"Giles was there?"

"Yeah, we were at the hardware store asking the owner about some recent suspected demon activity and- well, anyway, we overheard Parker showing off to some of his buddies. Saying, uh..." He hesitated, and Buffy gave him a look. "How easy you were, once he played toward your compassion. That he made you feel sorry for him. That you were uh... a uh..."

"Say it, Xander." Buffy groaned and closed her eyes, mortified, having an idea.

"A good lay." Xander murmured, following it with a big gulp of soda.

" _Giles heard that?_ " Buffy wrenched her eyes open. She was going to kill Parker for being such a lying… pillock, but she had to deal with straightening things out first.

"Yeah, I actually thought he was going to fuss at me for punching some random guy but... once Parker hit the floor and we left the shop, Giles _thanked_ me." Xander looked amazed, and pleased. "I guess because I saved him from having to do it. He looked pretty furious at the kid, for sure."

"Oh, God." Buffy was suddenly not hungry in the slightest. "When was this?"

"Yesterday afternoon- "

"I need to go." She pushed herself to her feet, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Wait- what about...? Don't you have classes?" He furrowed his brow at her, confused.

"You can have my lunch," She replied, distracted, already mentally mapping the quickest way to the Magic Box from the school grounds. She could cut through Radcliff Park and be there in half the time...

Giles might think Parker was a pillock for showing off about sexual exploits, but he still might believe they were true. And after their fight and the distance that’s been between them…

  
  


**... ... ...**

  
  


Anya hadn’t seen Giles at the shop all day; she’d even had to open up a few hours later than usual when she arrived to find the doors locked and lights turned off. Buffy went to his apartment next, determined to speak to him as soon as possible and clear everything up. She didn’t want him thinking… not even for a moment… It's already been almost twenty-four hours and that was too long.

Anya flung the ‘out to lunch’ sign on the door and locked up the shop, following Buffy to Giles’ place, just as determined to fuss at him for not showing up at work without at least giving her a call about it. Buffy was too caught up in her own worries to tell Anya to hang back.

Parker’s big lying mouth could ruin everything. And his kissing wasn’t even worth it!

“Oh, God.” Buffy’s emotional despair turned into shock when she and Anya drew to a halt in front of Gile’s door.

Or rather, what was left of his door.

“This… doesn’t look good.” Anya noted unnecessarily, as they carefully stepped around the destroyed entry. It had been completely removed from its hinges, and now lay at an angle against the frame - something had forced its way inside. Something strong.

Buffy looked around the room slowly, but didn’t get the feeling that anyone was inside, evil or otherwise. A section of the banister was broken apart on the steps, and there looked like there were holes in the drywall, as well. She hoped to God they hadn’t been made by Giles’ head, because it was obvious some kind of fight had happened here.

All thoughts of Parker-the-pillock completely left her. Giles could be in trouble.

“I don’t see any blood… or bodies…” Anya mused as she hesitantly stepped halfway up the stairs to peek into the loft. “Should we call Xander?”

Giles’ phone was crushed into useless pieces, though. Buffy touched it carefully, frowning as she looked at his desk. There were a few demonology texts sitting open, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything telling - it could’ve been his light reading before bedtime. She did remember Xander’s mention of their demon investigation at the hardware store, though. She made a mental note to ask him more details about it. Maybe the demon had caught on to it’s tail, and pulled the offensive.

“Um…” Anya approached the other side of the desk and picked something off of the floor, holding it up for Buffy to see. “I would normally suggest wild sex, but considering the apartment is empty…” Anya winced as she held the ruins of a shirt that had been ripped through the back. “I’ve seen this before.”

“What?” Buffy demanded. “A demon?” She refused to think of ‘Giles’ and ‘wild sex’ at the same time. _That woman who left the phone message. Maybe he called her. No - stop it, you know Anya's just being Anya. The freaking door is broken in. Focus._

“I think it ate him up.”

Buffy blinked at the shirt, already on edge to begin with. Now there was the prospect that Giles had been _eaten_?

“There’s no way in hell Giles died thinking I cheated on him.” Buffy said with determination, refusing to accept anything dire. “Let’s get to a phone and call Xander and Willow. He’s just missing, is all. We’ll find him.”

Anya gave the shirt a dubious look, but tossed it to the ground and followed Buffy’s hurried pace back outside.

“Um, hold on,” Anya called out after a moment. “Cheated on him?”

A few of the neighbors were lingering out in the courtyard, trying not to call attention to themselves as they eyeballed Giles’ broken front door, and Buffy and Anya leaving it.

“Hey!” Buffy approached the younger-ish woman that held a boy in her arms; she seemed the most friendly of the bunch. “You know the guy that lives there? Tall, English, great hair? Have you seen him?”

Anya made an odd face at Buffy’s chosen descriptors, but then pursed her lips thoughtfully, and eventually nodded in agreement.

“No,” The neighbor shook her head warily, clutching her child against her hip. He seemed just a little too old to be carted around by his mom, but she was soothing her hand up and down his back and Buffy suspected they might’ve seen something else.

“What about anyone else? Did you see who did that?” Buffy gestured back toward the door.

“Not really a ‘who’,” Anya chided, but Buffy elbowed her into silence before she could say anything else.

“Grr!” The little boy twisted around to face them, making a growling face and putting his hands up against his forehead, fingers pointed out together like horns.

“A monster?” Buffy asked him gently, and the mom sort of laughed awkwardly.

“He has a wild imagination,” She began to explain, no doubt the token phrasing the police had told her to use.

“Hey, you’d be surprised some of the things I’ve seen around this town,” Buffy replied with a quirk of her eyebrow, and the mom lowered her voice.

“My God, you too?” She whispered conspiratorially, and Buffy gave the little boy a searching look.

“How good are you at drawing? Think you could make me a picture of what you saw?” She asked him brightly, looking to his mom for permission. She hesitated for a moment, but Buffy let her see the desperation in her eyes, and she nodded as she led the two girls onto their front porch.

There was a coloring book and pencils already strewn about, and the mom set the little boy down and found him a blank page to draw on. Buffy asked him some questions about it, and the mom too, taking mental notes of the few details they were able to give. The family also let Buffy borrow their phone, and she tried the Magic Box one more time before hitting up the rest of the Scoobies.

By the time Willow and Xander arrived at Giles’, Buffy and Anya had already gathered together as many demon books as they could find, and were poring through the pictures looking for a match.

“Are we… really going off a doodle from a six year old?” Xander grimaced as he turned the page sideways, and then upside down.

“Tufty ears, spiky back, horns on the head like,” Buffy explained tersely, briefly lifting her hands up to resemble the horns before returning to the book in her lap.

“Oo! Tufty ears!” Anya held her book up, but after a check, Buffy shook her head.

“Too chicken-like. The neighbor said this thing was tall, and broad. Really strong - obviously,” She gestured off-hand toward the front door leaning off its hinges, flipping through to the end of her book before tossing it aside with an annoyed grunt.

“Wait! What about this?” Xander plopped onto the couch next to Willow and showed her his book. “It’s actually a pretty good match. That kid might be a savant!”

“Oh, this has to be it! …Fyarl demon,” Willow read aloud. “Sort of a footsoldier type… works for other demons lots of the time, very strong… eugh, and hey, mucus…” She grimaced.

“Mucus?” Buffy repeated in dismay. It just had to be one of the slimy ones, of course… “How do I kill it?”

“Silver,” Willow answered, running her finger down the page. “A weapon made of silver.”

“Silver!” Xander suddenly shouted, and everyone looked at him. “Er, well, grey.”

“Dear?” Anya blinked at him in concern, and he gestured his hands as he hopped to his feet and began digging around their mess of books, then the mess that was on Giles’ desk. “What are you looking for?” Anya asked carefully patiently, as if he were having some kind of episode.

“Giles’ car! His car wasn’t outside!” Xander explained. Closing the drawers to the desk, he confirmed, “And I can’t find his keys, either.”

“It… stole Giles’ car?” Willow wondered.

“But why would a demon steal a car?” Xander scratched his head, his face falling as his possible clue didn’t really lead anywhere.

“Why would a demon steal _that_ car?” Anya added distastefully.

“A demon that steals a car has a reason…” Buffy figured thoughtfully. “A purpose. But it doesn’t sound like these Fyarl demons are really big independent thinkers.”

“So… there’s something more at play, here,” Willow figured, nodding as she followed along with Buffy’s thinking. “Another demon or someone is controlling the Fyarl? Made it attack Giles?”

“Who hates Giles enough to do that?” Xander frowned deeply.

“Who is it _always_ when it’s something to do with Giles?” Buffy gave Willow a look, and Willow groaned.

“Ethan Rayne.” She set the book aside and got to her feet, heading for the computer Giles kept in the corner of his living room specifically for her when she visited. “I’ll check local hotels for any check-ins,”

“Isn’t he supposed to be in custody? After the whole, uh, band candy incident last year?” Xander wondered.

“Band candy?” Anya repeated in confusion.

“Don’t ask.” Buffy quickly interrupted, pushing away memories of a recent dream that had taken her little elevator moment with ‘Ripper’ to a whole ‘nother level. “And even if they did stick him with charges, I doubt the police could have held him for very long. They aren’t exactly equipped for all the mystic stuff, remember.”

“That guy is really starting to get annoying.” Xander glowered, beginning to straighten up all the books they hadn’t ended up needing.

“You’re telling me.” Buffy muttered. “I _should’ve_ knocked his teeth in when I had the chance.” She approached Willow’s chair and hovered behind her as her fingers tapped at the keys. “Please tell me you can find him. This demon did something to Giles, and I’m gonna kill it. And I’m gonna make Ethan _wish_ he were dead.”

She ignored the wary looks Anya and Xander shot one another at her tone.

**... ... ...**

“Oh, my lucky day,” Buffy drawled as she stepped through the broken hotel room door just in time to find Ethan being tossed across the room like a sack of potatoes.

He rolled to his feet with a groan, stumbling toward the door, bumping into Buffy and startling before he realized who she was.

“Uh, oh- help! He’s- the demon, it killed Ripper, now it’s after me!”

“ _Killed-_ ” Buffy still didn’t want to believe that, though no matter what the truth was, she knew Ethan was involved somehow. Without hesitating, she hauled back and punched him in the jaw, knocking him out cold before he even hit the floor.

Then she turned toward the Fyarl.

“Buffy- ” Xander skittered to a halt just inside the room behind her, staring wide-eyed at the demon. “Holy, hell, that’s a big’un.”

“Make sure he doesn’t move.” Buffy pointed at Ethan’s unconscious form without looking away from the Fyarl as she stalked toward it.

It held its hands out toward her, almost as if it were asking her for mercy. That only made her more angry, as she recalled the state of Giles’ apartment, and noted the fact that Giles wasn’t in the room.

“What did you do to Giles?” She demanded lowly. It blinked quickly and shook its head, and Buffy clenched her fists. “What did you do?!”

“Buffy, it doesn’t speak English!” Willow called out, peering through the broken doorway carefully.

“Well, I’ve got a language it can understand,” Buffy replied, and then without warning spun a hard kick into the demon’s chest, sending it stumbling back across the room.

They tussled back and forth for a few moments; it wasn’t really fighting her back as much as she would have expected, but she was too angry to care much.

“Did you kill him? _Did you kill him?_ ” She shouted between punches, the tears swimming in her vision not mattering as each punch landed squarely into its chest and stomach.

It roared at her, managing to push her back away from it, and though she stumbled back onto the bed for a moment, when it came after her she got her legs around it and tripped it to the floor. While she had the chance, she yanked the letter opener she’d grabbed off Giles’ desk from the back of her pants, and straddled the demon.

“This is for Giles,” _My Watcher, my heart_ _,_ She wanted to say, but couldn’t with the room full of people. The implement wasn’t very sharp, so she reared up and brought it down with both hands into the demon’s chest to make sure it went through its tough skin.

Warily, she realized that in her emotion she’d missed its heart by an inch or so, but then she got a good look into its eyes, and her blood ran cold.

Those eyes, and the way they looked at her, were unmistakable. Impossible to replicate.

“Oh God.” She tugged the letter opener free subconsciously, sitting up a little as she panicked. “Giles?!”

“Huh?” Xander blurted from the other side of the room, hearing the sound of recognition in Buffy’s tone.

The demon beneath her blinked, like it was relieved, and suddenly Buffy was feeling anguished for different reasons.

“Oh God! Giles! I’m so- I’m so sorry!” She touched his chest hesitantly, near the wound she’d made, panicking. “Don’t die!”

He breathed heavily beneath her, but seemed to relax, settling his arms outstretched to the floor. Now that she wasn’t blind with anger and revenge, she realized that he was wearing trousers and shoes that looked exactly like a pair that Giles owned. She should have paid more attention; noticed that sooner.

“I… think he’s okay?” She leaned over close to his face again, wanting another look at his eyes. They seemed to soften, and she yanked her head up to seek out Willow.

The others, save for Ethan, were all staring at them in gaping silence.

“It’s some kind of spell! Wake up Ethan, get him to reverse this,” Buffy ordered, sitting back on her haunches, and Giles-demon attempted to push himself up onto his elbows. Buffy pushed him back down to the floor with a thump, and he grunted. “No, stay down, you’re…” She grimaced at the green ooze protruding from his chest. “Bleeding?” She looked again at the letter opener in her hands, and frowned at it as she turned it about. “Is this thing real silver?” She hoped Giles hadn’t paid too much for the kick-knack.

“Um, Buffy…” Xander hesitantly stepped closer to offer Buffy a hand, as Willow and Anya began digging through Ethan’s bags for who-knows-what. “If that really is, uh, Giles,” He glanced hesitantly toward the demon lying prone on the ground, “maybe you wanna get off of him now?”

“Oh.” Buffy glanced back down and offered Giles-the-demon a quick apologetic smile before she accepted Xander’s help up to her feet. She mentally gave herself a swift kick before she could even _start_ imagining straddling _human_ Giles.

“This should do,” Anya proclaimed, holding a small leather bag of something proudly, before approaching Ethan and waving it under his nose.

He gagged and curled away, waking up immediately, and Xander manhandled him into a sitting position while Willow made sure he performed the right spell they needed.

“I’ve really got to learn to do the damage and get out of town,” Ethan complained, as they all watched apprehensively at the demon as it slowly shifted back into familiar Giles-y shape. “It’s the stay-and-gloat, gets me every time.”

Xander rolled his eyes and smacked the back of Ethan’s head, causing the man to wince, as Buffy immediately helped Giles sit up and lean back against the side of the bed.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry,” She babbled, darting her hands over his chest again. There weren’t any marks or any sign of injury, outwardly, only the scar from the arrow that had almost killed him last year and other, older scars that Buffy didn’t want to think about. “Is he okay?” Buffy demanded, turning back toward Ethan without pulling her hands away from Giles, absently stroking her fingers over the newer scar.

It was taking everything she had not to kiss him senseless, regardless of their audience.

“No lasting damage.” Ethan muttered, rubbing the back of his head and looking at them all as if they’d ruined his great fun.

“Are you okay?” Buffy demanded of Giles again, and he gingerly pressed his fingers against his chest as well, beside hers.

“Embarrassed, mostly,” He admitted quietly, then tilted his head curiously. “H-how did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes.” She replied easily, and his hand drifted overtop of hers, covering it warmly as he slowly smiled at her. His heart thumped beneath her hand, and she smiled back at him.

“You were going to avenge me.” He murmured in wonder, rubbing his thumb in a small gesture against her knuckle.

“In what world do you think I wouldn’t?” Buffy frowned lightly, and the pleasure in his eyes only increased.

“Is this gonna go on much longer?” Ethan complained loudly. “I’d rather like to be going.” He gave Buffy a particularly annoyed look. “You were the bloody reason we went out drinking in the first place. I don’t consider myself a fan of the sappy make-up scene.”

“What?” Xander blurted aloud again, but Buffy was already turning from Ethan to give a slow glare in Giles’ direction, and he lowered his hands as he avoided her eyes and pushed himself to his feet.

“You had _drinks_ with _Ethan_?” Buffy gaped at Giles as she shot to her feet as well. “Are you nuts?”

Giles made a point to silently focus on snagging a discarded shirt from Ethan’s bag the other ladies had rifled through, and quickly shrugged it on.

“You’re not going anywhere, buster,” Anya stepped in front of the doorway and blocked Ethan from exiting, while Xander grabbed hold of his arm firmly. “There’s only one demon allowed in this gang and that’s me! You broke the rules!”

“What rules- ” Ethan frowned and shook his head, and focused his argument toward Buffy again, “You can’t stop me! I’m human. You can’t kill me.”

“Kill?” Buffy raised her eyebrow and clenched her fists. “No. Maim and injure? Becoming more and more likely.”

“Police!” “Don’t move!” “Hands where I can see them!”

In a flurry of sudden activity, everyone already in the room immediately froze and pointed in Ethan’s direction, other than Ethan himself. He groaned and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Damn.”

Once Ethan was blamed for all the damages to the hotel room and to Giles’ apartment, he was carted away in a patrol car - much to Giles’ entertainment. The gang stood awkwardly in the parking lot until they were allowed to leave, and Buffy immediately insisted upon joining Giles back at his place.

“Buffy, you needn’t,”

“No buts.” She interrupted him firmly. “You don’t really have a front door, buster, so I’m gonna protect you until we can get it fixed. Besides,” She put her hand on his elbow to make sure she had his attention. “We need to talk.”

He looked down at her, wary and unsure, before eventually nodding.

“Oh!” Anya suddenly said very loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. She nodded at Buffy. “That explains the cheating comment.”

“ _What_ explains _what_?” Xander wondered incredulously, and Giles looked uncomfortable as Buffy grimaced.

“Nothing!” Buffy said for their benefit and an immediate sort of understanding for Giles, “That guy from the college, he was lying. I just- ” When Giles lifted his gaze to meet Buffy’s, she felt sort of shy all of a sudden. “I just wanted to make sure you know. What he said was a lie.”

Giles expression softened, and then he looked remorseful, and then even more embarrassed than before.

“Well… erm… perhaps we should discuss this…” He replied carefully in an agreeable tone.

“Thanks for your help, guys,” Buffy said to the gang. “Don’t wait up for me Will, okay?” Before the others could assume to tag along with them back to his apartment, Buffy tucked her arm around his and dragged him toward the nearest remaining police officer. “Excuse me,” She asked in her best demure voice, “could we possibly get a lift home?”

“My car,” Giles whined under his breath as they drove by the totaled Citroen half-parked in a spot across from the motel room, and Buffy patted his knee consolingly.

“It’s beyond time for an upgrade, Giles.”

**... ... ...**

  
  


“What-!” Giles stared in dismay at the haphazard stacks of books strewn about the living room, and Buffy winced as she moved to close the ones left gaping open and straighten them up a little better.

“Sorry, emergency Scooby session… we were trying to figure out what attacked you,” She glanced up at him, wryly. “I figured Ethan was involved, but really? What did he do, poison your drink?”

“That’s likely.” Giles admitted with some embarrassment, pushing his fingers through his hair as he hazily recalled Ethan making a joke in that regard.

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, books forgotten in her hand. That brief second she’d thought that maybe he _had_ been dead had been the worst feeling… 

“What did Ethan mean when he said it was my fault you went drinking with him?” Buffy asked, and Giles looked even more embarrassed.

“I, um… yesterday, Xander and I overheard- well, I suppose you know. Xander told you?” He guessed, and Buffy nodded.

“That was why I came over here, and found your place trashed. I wanted to explain…”

“When I heard what that prat was spouting off about to his friends, I thought that perhaps that was why you’d called me the other evening… that you’d… um, been with him, and then were feeling guilty. And- and _I_ was feeling guilty, and a bit angry, and rather a berk, and,” Giles began to pace, from his desk to the back of the couch and back again. “I’m the one that told you to- to enjoy college, but I still hated it. Hated him. God, Buffy, I wanted to- ” As he looked up at her, she wryly interrupted,

“Knock his teeth down his throat?”

“Um. Yes,” He chuckled uncomfortably, and Buffy sent him a half-smile.

“I want to, too.” She told him. “I owe Xander a pizza, or something.”

She gazed at Giles again for a minute, just taking him in. Ethan’s silk shirt looked ridiculous on him, but also somehow made him seem younger somehow. The low-buttoned collar revealed a patch of chest hair and Buffy recalled how it had felt beneath her fingers earlier, when she’d been too distracted at the time by his possible injury to really appreciate it.

Coming to a decision, she set the books down on the coffee table and stepped around to touch his elbow, gesturing her head toward the loft.

“That shirt is gonna make me go blind.” She informed him, and he glanced down at it before grimacing in agreement.

“I think I shall like to burn it.” He muttered. “I’ll um, be right back.”

She hesitated for a minute, but then quietly followed him upstairs, leaning her shoulder against the wall as she watched him dig through the chest of drawers, now wearing just his black trousers. Finding what he was looking for, he lifted out a plum-colored sweater and put his arms through it first before pulling it over his head, nudging the drawer closed with his hip.

Buffy bit her lip as she checked him out a little more openly than she’d been able to in the hotel room. He was… attractive, in a way no man had been to her before. Physically, he wasn’t her predictable type - but the slight softness of his belly made her breathless, and the curves of muscle in his arms made her palms itch. She knew him; knew how strong he was and his talent with a sword, how quick he was on his feet (at least for short distances), how fantastic his hugs felt.

He was solid. Built for battle, and survival, and long-winded research sessions fueled only by doughnuts. Once again a fierce pride for her Watcher suddenly burned through her veins, and she had to clench her nails against her palms to keep herself from reaching out for him.

Giles startled when he straightened the sweater and noticed Buffy standing there, but he only stared at her without speaking.

“He did kiss me.” Buffy admitted, after a beat of silence. “Parker. We were studying, and… well, he _did_ make me feel a little sorry for him. But I turned him down immediately, and he wasn’t really happy about it but he’d left without pushing too much. …I called you because I was feeling sorry for myself, and I was… lonely.”

“Buffy,” Giles started, his tone compassionate toward her but with a glint of anger in his eyes. He wanted to ask her more about Parker, she figured, to get back at him in some way, but Buffy didn’t want either one of them spending another second thinking about him.

“I’m glad you’re not dead. Or all demon-y.” Buffy murmured, interrupting him, slowly approaching the bed where the silk shirt had been discarded. She picked it up and held it in her hand for a moment as Giles watched her. “I didn’t want to think about you being dead as even an option, but it was even worse when I thought you might’ve died thinking that I cheated- ”

“Buffy, I _did_ tell you that it was alright if you- even if it was asinine of me, I still- ”

“That doesn’t matter!” Buffy told him seriously, throwing the shirt to the floor, and he frowned a little, startled by her vehemence. “We do claim one another. You’re my Watcher,” She reminded him firmly, and his expression relaxed in understanding. “And I’m your Slayer.”

“That’s- a different sort of claim,” Giles said, and she shook her head.

“Is it?” She halved the distance between them, and he stood noticeably very still. “Between us? I don’t think it is.” Her words spoke of hesitance but her tone was sure. She was sure. “What do you think I’m saying, when I call you Watcher-mine?” She pointed out softly.

His expression immediately softened at the phrase, as it always did - sometimes in the extreme, sometimes in a tiny way that only she noticed.

“Screw all that crap about ‘living it up’ in college or whatever. I know what’s right for me, Giles. I know what’s clear, and it’s only gotten clearer. Ever since… I- ” She paused, and touched her chest. “You’re the one in here. ...I thought I knew love, before, with Angel.” Buffy murmured to him, gazing at his face. _Really_ looking, taking in everything about him. “But I didn’t, not really. That wasn’t even half of the real thing.” Her statement ended in a whisper, and Giles stared at her for a long time. “I’m your Slayer, and I’m your partner, and I’m… even if we haven’t quite really gotten there yet, I’m your lover. I love you, Giles. I love you so much that, that word doesn’t even feel like _enough_.”

“We _were_ a pretty good bad idea.” He finally said, and after another beat they reached for one another in the same moment, hands clutching and mouths anxious, bodies meeting in a rush.

Buffy moaned immediately, desperately; the hazy memory of their last kiss weeks ago had nothing on reality. Fueled by their repressed desire for one another, they kissed deeply and vigorously, hands tangled messily in one another’s hair.

Giles slid his tongue into her mouth and then he moaned, and the next thing she knew he was on his back and she was straddling him again, this time on his bed.

Yeah, straddling human-Giles was _way_ on the improvement side of the scale.

Her knees bracketed his hips tightly, and she pushed her hands up underneath the end of his sweater, desperate to touch his bare skin again, to explore it and his chest hair and-

“Buffy!” He arched beneath her when she rubbed her thumbs over his nipples, and she smiled. She wriggled down lower on his thighs, though, and gave him a mildly coy look.

She wanted to be with Giles, yes - she wanted to explore all of him, every inch of him - but there were other things she wanted more, right now.

“Remember what I said a while ago, about your scent?” She murmured, tapping her fingers against his belly as he breathed deeply.

“Hm?” He wondered distractedly, running his hands over her shoulders, making her skin tingle.

“How it makes me wanna crawl inside of your shirt while you’re still wearing it?” Buffy quirked her lip higher, grinning, and Giles cocked his head on the pillows a little. “That’s not just a Slayer thing.” Buffy told him, and just as realization filled his eyes, she lifted his sweater up off of his belly and ducked her head under it, squirming into it and wrapping her arms around his torso so he couldn’t pull away.

“Buffy!” This time his accusation was filled with laughter, and he wrapped his arms around her as she kissed her way along the trail of hair above his belly button, nuzzling her cheek against his chest once she reached it. “Oh, my love,” He sighed wondrously, his fingers sliding up and down her back.

She could feel the bulge in his trousers growing a bit more interested, and she pushed herself up higher until her head was freed through the collar of his sweater and her groin wasn’t quite so directly over his.

She wanted him, and she was beyond ecstatic with the physical proof that he certainly still wanted her, too - but she wanted cuddles more, right now. She wanted to bask in his aliveness and his humanness.

“You’re stretching out my favorite jumper.” Giles pouted, but his arms stayed heavy around her back. They were too close to really look at one another, so Buffy tucked her face against the curve of his neck.

“I love you.” She sighed happily, confidently. His skin was warm through her shirt and his heart thumped strongly against hers. “And I don’t want anyone else. There isn’t anybody else, for me, and I mean that. You’re it, mister.” She was just as certain of that now as she had been the first time she told him. She rubbed her nose against the spot where his pulse jumped. “I wouldn’t mind some more smoochies from time to time, though.”

His arms tightened around her, and he shifted to brush the corner of his mouth against her forehead before relaxing again.

“I believe I could be persuaded.”

**... ... ...**

Xander and Willow arrived the following morning with doughnuts and supplies in hand, to help Giles put his apartment back in one piece. Luckily, Buffy still had a spare t-shirt and yoga pants she kept here for training purposes, so she and Giles were able to freshen up - separately - just before the rest of the Scoobies showed up.

Buffy was grateful they hadn’t been any earlier; she and Giles had fallen asleep on the bed, and they’d woken up to find themselves still tangled up together in his sweater, lying on their sides with their arms and legs all around each other.

It had been sexy and cozy all at once in a way that dizzied her, and untangling themselves proved to be a feat filled both with embarrassment and extreme restraint.

After helping Xander replace the splintered door frame and re-secure the hinges to it, Buffy felt confident that she and Giles could totally do this and still just be ‘Buffy and Giles’ to the rest of the gang.

She began to second-guess that when Xander opened his big mouth.

“Geez, Giles, did you wear that sweater while you were a demon, or something?” He laughed, and Buffy choked on her bite of doughnut.

Giles had put a t-shirt on underneath the purple sweater, but the way it hung off of him was still pretty obvious that it didn’t fit him like his other sweaters did.

“It’s Buffy’s fault,” Giles griped immediately, and then had to come up with some kind of training excuse for it, “Um, this morning, we were- we were sp-sparring,” He gestured his hand vaguely before focusing intently on connecting the wire into the new phone Willow had bought him.

“You didn’t get enough of a fight while you were a demon?” Willow raised her eyebrow in amusement, and Buffy squinted warningly at her. The red-head made an innocent face, but said, “Things are changing, aren’t they?” Willow looked at Buffy knowingly as Buffy watched Giles shift his attention toward putting his books back into order on their shelves.

“What? Huh?” Buffy darted her gaze back toward her best friend. They were sitting on the couch together, Buffy cross-legged with a pillow in her lap and Willow sitting against the armrest to face her, her knees pulled up to her chest. Xander was sitting half-lounged on the floor beside the coffee table, looking like he was about to take a nap there.

“I think they’ve been changing for a while now.” Willow nodded to herself as if she’d proven some hypothesis of hers, and out of the corner of her eye Buffy noticed Giles studiously focusing on his bookshelves, his glasses removed and dangling between his fingers. Buffy blinked at Willow, and Willow smiled gently. “They’re good changes, though?”

“Totally of the good.” Buffy assured her quickly, nodding. “Slow ones though! Changes, I mean. We’re… taking it slow.”

“That’s… good.” Willow responded carefully, still obviously unsure what she thought about the idea, even if she’d apparently had her suspicions. “Xander and I… we’ve talked about it.” She admitted, and Buffy widened her eyes as she glanced between the two. Xander looked uncomfortable, but kept quiet. “He just thought you’ve got a crush,” Willow quickly soothed, “But I’ve been noticing things for a while… little things, here and there, but you put them together and…” She trailed off, and looked at Giles again before looking back at Buffy. “Were you really sparring this morning, or- ?”

“Do you really wanna know that?” Buffy raised her eyebrow, and Xander immediately shook his head, a little more conscious of the world around him again.

“No.” He insisted, giving Willow a look. A little smile brightened her face.

“Have you kissed?” She asked in an excited whisper, and Giles cleared his throat loudly before Buffy could respond to that. “Right,” Willow straightened. “None of my business.” She looked disappointed, though, and Buffy quietly smirked a little, and then Willow gaped with a widening grin. Xander’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open too, but he looked a little more startled than amazed.

“Um, tea?” Buffy offered before Willow could blurt out any other questions or Xander say anything inappropriate, and Giles jumped on the opportunity to leave the room.

“I’ll make it.”

As soon as he was behind Willow’s back, Willow raised both hands at Buffy with the universal ‘a-ok’ gesture of approval, and Buffy blushed as she leaned forward to quickly push Willow’s hands down into her lap before Giles might notice.

“You’re… okay with it?” Buffy whispered nervously, and Willow nodded. Xander hesitated, still obviously unsure about what exactly was being said.

“It took me a minute of freaking out, of course,” Willow replied calmly, which Buffy was impressed about considering she hadn’t really seen any ‘freaking out’ on Willow’s face, “but this isn’t so shocking, really. You guys have always been your own little pair, within the Scoobies. And after the whole teenager-Giles fiasco with the band candy,”

“Nothing happened then!” Buffy immediately protested, and Willow gave her an easy smile to calm her down.

“Maybe not, but something _could’ve_. And once I noticed the possibility was there, well… you guys give each other these little looks, _a lot_.” Willow raised her eyebrow, Xander nodded as if that were an admittedly good point, and Buffy blushed a little as she looked down and fiddled with the pillow in her lap. “I thought maybe after graduation…”

Buffy shook her head without looking up.

“Giles didn’t want people to suspect our friendship from before.” She explained, and Willow nodded again.

“That makes sense.”

“I know.” Buffy grumbled, still annoyed by it, and Willow brightened again and leaned forward closer to Buffy.

“But you’ve totally smoochied though, right? I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you? A _blind man_ could see how much Giles loves you. Sometimes it’s like you’re the only person in the whole room. Plus, there was that time when he checked you out while you were naked from the shower,”

There was a loud clatter quickly followed by a half-muffled ‘bloody hell’ from the kitchen, and Buffy blushed profusely.

“ _I was not naked_.” She hissed, glancing toward the kitchen. Giles was resolutely hiding out of sight, and Xander was gaping again. “I had a towel on!” She whined, and Xander shook his head and closed his mouth, swallowing.

“No, that’s almost worse. That’s like, every guy’s fantasy at some point; their lady in nothing but a towel, still dripping from the shower…” He trailed off as he started daydreaming, but then quickly startled back into awareness. “Were you still dripping?”

“Um… I mean… maybe a little.” Buffy muttered, ducking her head in embarrassment. Xander seemed to go all zoney again, and Willow kicked him hard enough for him to yelp.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. No way Giles  _ wasn’t _ checking you out. I mean, the man’s only human.” He glanced toward the kitchen briefly. “Usually. …Anyway,” He smirked just a little, then, “I was there for Cave-Buffy, remember? He was terrified you were gonna club him over the head, but he was also totally into it.”

“Oh my God!” Willow laughed, and Buffy blushed deeply. “What happened before I came back to the dorm?!”

“Nothing you need to know about!” Buffy protested.

“Was it…” Xander was hesitant to ask, and sat up as he squirmed uncomfortably for a moment. “Was it more than a crush, last year? Was Faith…”

“Yes and no.” Buffy answered honestly. She didn’t want to lie to him, but she also knew he wouldn’t be comfortable hearing that she and Giles had still been making out and fondling between the stacks… “We knew how we felt about each other, more or less, but Faith was way overboard…”

“As Faith usually is.” Willow reasoned, and Xander nodded slowly. After a somewhat awkward moment, Willow made a happy little squealing sound. “Wow!”

“Sh!” Buffy hissed, glancing toward the kitchen again.

“This is so weird.” Xander commented. “Like… honestly I can’t be that surprised; as Willow pointed out there have been lots of things that make it seem so obvious now…” He sort of looked suspicious, though, as he looked toward the kitchen entry.

“ _Oh my God!_ ” Willow exclaimed suddenly.

“What?!” Buffy looked at her in alarm for her outburst.

“You-! You-! Months ago, you-!” She couldn’t finish a sentence, and Buffy stared at her incredulously.

“What did I do?!”

“You asked me about _men_!” Willow hissed, as if it was the dirtiest thing ever, and Buffy immediately blushed bright red. Xander whipped his gaze back toward them and his eyes widened exponentially, again. “You were asking for _Giles_! Oh my _God_ , _oh my God_.”

“Willow, please breathe, and please lower your voice,” Buffy begged, not even daring to look in the direction of the kitchen now, mortally embarrassed.

“My brain! Stop my brain!” Willow begged. “Turn it off, turn it off! Now I know things! I know things I don’t wanna know!”

“It’s not like I told you what I ended up doing,” Buffy protested.

“But there’s a list to choose from! And it could be anything from that list! And now I’m picturing-! Oh God!” Her seeming terror dissolved into giggles then; mad laughter that alarmed Buffy even more than the embarrassing things she was announcing no doubt perfectly loud enough for Giles to hear.

“I think now is a good time for me to go get that new railing cut,” Xander announced lightly, getting to his feet and grimacing as if he were nauseous. “And, uh, paint.”

“Xander,” Buffy stopped him before he could flee the apartment, “Don’t talk to anyone else about this, alright?” She requested.

“Does anyone else know? Clearly Faith suspects - though a large part of me figures she would have suspected regardless.” Willow calmed down enough to speak clearly again.

“Mom does…” Buffy wasn’t surprised at _their_ surprise at that. “It wasn’t exactly by choice, at first, but she’s cool. And - _God help me_ \- Wes.”

“ _Wesley_ knew before _me_?!” Willow exclaimed in protest, and Buffy winced apologetically.

“Definitely not by choice. He uh… caught us, once, and… well, a deal had to be made…”

“ _Caught you_?” Xander groaned in dismay.

“Not like that! I mean, he thought it was more than what it was too, but- hey, stop with the faces! It was just a little cuddling!” Buffy defended.

“ _Giles cuddles_?!” Xander’s voice went all high-pitched and giggly, and Buffy glared at him. He cleared his throat, and thrust his thumb toward the door. “I’m gonna hit the hardware store now.” He announced in a serious voice, and disappeared out the door.

“Do you guys plan on being more open about this?” Willow asked, and Buffy nodded.

“Sure, eventually… we’ll just have to, I dunno, feel things out I guess.” She shifted more comfortably against the cushions. “This is Giles. It’s not going anywhere.”

“What’s not going anywhere?” Willow wondered, not quite following.

“My love.” Buffy clarified with soft hesitance, then furrowed her brow at Willow’s surprise. “I know this is kind of new to you, Willow, but- ”

“No, no- it’s just- hearing you say it.” Willow looked amazed. “This is real stuff, huh?”

“Real stuff.” Buffy nodded solemnly. After a moment, Willow leaned forward and hugged her tightly.

“Good.” Willow murmured earnestly, and Buffy smiled warmly.

Five minutes later, Giles slunk hesitantly into the room, a tray laden with tea things in his hands and an unsure, sheepish expression on his face. Buffy rolled her eyes at him.

“Wimp.”

“You seemed to have it handled just fine.” He reasoned, only very quickly glancing in Willow’s direction before settling in the reading chair and fiddling with the tea tray. Willow stared at him directly, until he shifted in his seat and sighed heavily, pausing his drink preparation. “Out with it, Willow, before you implode all over my couch.”

“You’re in love with Buffy!” She exclaimed in amazement.

“That wasn’t exactly a question.” He drawled, once more stirring his spoon in his cup of tea.

“The Slayer and her Watcher! It’s so… Shakespearean!” Willow swooned.

“I hope not.” Buffy frowned. “Don’t most of those end in tragedy?”

“Well,” Willow admitted, “most of his romances do. But his comedies end in marriage! So what I said applies! Our lives totally have comedy.”

“Oh, yes, we’re a real riot.” Giles drawled sarcastically, leaning back in his seat with cup in hand. He propped his ankle up onto his knee and pushed his free hand through his hair, sighing in relaxation as he glanced around the room. “Thank you for helping put this place back into order,” He told Willow sincerely, and she smiled warmly.

“You’re welcome.”

She and Buffy both quietly made up their own tea, the silence between them all mostly comfortable, although Buffy was spending more time trying not to ogle Giles and less time actually drinking her tea. She wanted to join him in that chair… just for a little cuddling, of course.

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed suddenly again, making Buffy jump and have to juggle her teacup a bit to keep it from spilling. “All that stuff about Riley must’ve been really awkward, huh?” She grimaced apologetically. “Sorry.”

“It’s uh, okay,” Buffy glanced uncomfortably toward Giles. They’d only just recently gotten over that monstrous communication issue themselves; she wasn’t so sure she was that comfortable talking about it. At all. “It’s not like you really knew otherwise.”

“…How does it work?” Willow wondered, and Giles sputtered his tea.

“Exc- excuse me?” He stuttered as he fished his handkerchief from his pocket to clean the tea drops from his face.

“Well, you two still train together and stuff,” She pointed out. “That’s not weird?”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Buffy shrugged as Giles relaxed. “I mean, it’s kinda hard sometimes, but we’ve got rules and stuff.”

“Rules?” Willow raised her eyebrow, partially amused.

“Yeah, like the six-inch rule -”

“Oh,” Willow’s amusement turned into surprise and she quickly interrupted, “I don’t think I want to know about that one.”

“For God’s sake,” Giles grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“What?” Buffy didn’t follow, at first, but then realizing Giles’ discomfort and annoyance, she gaped at Willow and lightly pushed at her. “Not that! Geez! We just have a basic no smoochy rule, and on days that’s particularly difficult, we keep at least six inches of space between us at all times.”

Willow gave her a dubious look.

“And that works?”

“…Sometimes.” Buffy glanced toward Giles, and though he covered up most of his expression by taking a drink from his teacup, his eyes now glittered with amusement over the rim. “We were Slayer and Watcher first, Willow, and we’re still in charge of the Hellmouth. That’s important.” Buffy murmured, and now Giles looked proud. She ducked her head over her own cup so that she didn’t get distracted by him.

After a minute, she still felt the weight of Willow’s gaze, and she looked up at her.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just trying to picture it.” Willow gave them a little smile, and Giles looked mildly appalled as Buffy blinked owlishly at her. “Not picture _that_!” Willow hurriedly corrected, blushing, and gesturing at the both of them. “Just, the two of you… bein’ all… smoochy.” She smiled that little look of wonder, again. “It’s cute. Ohhh, I can’t wait to tell Oz!” At Buffy’s wince, her excitement waned. “Don’t tell me _he_ already knows, too! You told my boyfriend before you told me?!” Willow seemed legitimately a bit hurt, now, and Buffy hurriedly set her cup on the coffee table to grasp Willow’s knee with both of her hands.

“I wanted to tell you, Willow, I swear.” Buffy insisted apologetically. “A hundred times. But… stuff just kept getting in the way every time I planned on telling you, and then- then, well, something came up and I needed- I needed a guy’s advice, and- ” She glanced toward Giles, catching the realization on his face, but he stayed quiet. “And anyway, I think he might’ve actually been one of the first to find out… wolfy-Oz seems to remember more things than we’d expected him to.”

Giles blushed at that, and Willow gave them both a long look.

“You guys really suck at keeping this thing a secret.” She pointed out, and Buffy grimaced again but nodded in agreement.

**... ... ...**

Xander and Willow left in the late afternoon, as all the pizza from their lunch had been eaten and there was nothing left but to wait for paint to dry. They’d all talked about college and the shop and a little about what it felt like to be a demon - on Giles’ part - and left with the promise not to bring up their knowledge of changed relationships in mixed company.

Buffy admittedly had some studying to do, but her books and notes were all in her dorm and she didn’t want to leave yet. Even watching Giles fiddle with his new answering machine was more interesting than her math textbook.

“Nice phone,” Buffy quipped.

“Yes, fabulous technology.” Giles returned, sassy, as he read the instruction manual carefully and pressed a button on the machine.

Giles was the only guy she knew who actually read instruction manuals, and the thought made her grin with fond exasperation. It wasn’t even all that different of a device from his old one, but Giles and technology were always unmixy things.

“You see, if anyone has any information I need to know, they can uh, simply tell me about it.” He lifted up the cordless phone, and arched his eyebrow at her. “Through this… ingenious speaking tube. I’m very excited.” His eyes glittered with a flirtatious energy, and Buffy snorted softly in amusement.

She waited until he was finished pushing buttons to comment in amazement,

“I can’t believe you actually went after Professor Walsh.”

“Yes. Well… ” Embarrassed, he scratched his head as he approached the couch, easing down into the spot Willow had vacated.

“And I can’t believe she’s in charge of the Initiative!” Buffy exclaimed. “How did I miss that?” Giles had told the three of them - at least partially - what he and Ethan had talked about while they’d been at the bar together.

“Um, I know Ethan isn’t a reliable source, but, um, I’m not sure that he’s wrong about them.” Giles settled his elbow against the back of his couch and touched his finger thoughtfully against his lip. “The Initiative is something we don’t really understand… I want you to be careful around them, Buffy,”

He was saying more stuff, but Buffy wasn’t listening. The way he stroked the side of his finger against his upper lip was incredibly distracting.

“Are you even listening to me?” Giles complained, and Buffy blinked quickly.

“Huh? What?” She raised her gaze back to his eyes, and he gave her a look.

“Buffy, really - you must learn to keep your focus on Slayer matters, otherwise we- ”

“I’m focused!” She insisted, not wanting him to finish what he’d been about to suggest. “Totally focused! You want me to, um,”

“Befriend this Riley fellow?” Giles lifted his eyebrow.

“Get closer with the t.a.!” Buffy said overtop of him, nodding. She quickly frowned, however, and reminded him, “Willow was right about him having a crush on me.”

“That’s good,” Giles brightened. “We can use that to our favor.”

“I don’t want to encourage him.” Buffy frowned even deeper, then gave Giles a suspicious look. “You aren’t just using this as some elaborate plan to push me away, are you?”

“Of course not, Buffy.” Giles assured her. “I only mean that he will likely be more giving with information toward you. He’ll want to show off.”

“Oh?” Buffy kept her criss-cross seated position, but wriggled a little closer toward him on the couch. “Do you show off for the girls you have a crush on?”

“Do I?” He returned, and she thought about how he used to interact with Wesley when she was around, and she laughed.

“Yeah, you do,” She grinned, and he looked affronted for a moment, as if he’d thought he could defend himself otherwise. Buffy reached out to touch his knee, patting it as she sighed. “I’ll try to make better friends with Riley.”

“Good.” He murmured. “Just remember to be careful. The fact that they seem to be capturing demons instead of simply killing them concerns me. Their fascination may very well extend to the Slayer… and I imagine there are more students involved than merely her t.a.”

Buffy rubbed her thumb against the fabric of his trousers, surprised by their softness.

“Buffy.”

“Huh?” She jerked her gaze back toward his eyes again, and he sighed heavily, putting his hand over hers to stop her distracted gestures. “I have fascinations of my own, you know.” She pouted, and his nostrils flared as he looked away from her, clenching his jaw.

His expression was inscrutable and, after staring off in silence for a good minute, he wrenched his glasses off his face.

“We shouldn’t right now.” He replied in frustration as he tossed the frames onto the coffee table. “Our schedules barely line up as it is, and- and, I’d rather we figure out what the Initiative is up to before we start focusing on other- ”

“Giles, we can do long and thorough whenever we want. I’m not going to hate you if our first time is a little rushed.”

“I would.” He muttered, glaring at his hands as he fiddled his fingers.

“You really feel like it’s that important?” She wondered with surprise, and his gaze looked troubled, but earnest, as he met her eyes.

“I think _you’re_ that important.” He corrected, and she swallowed at the rush of warm emotion that filled her heart. “Buffy… you- you’ve only been with one other person, before. And the memory of that is- is tainted, forever. I want- I just want the memory of your next first to be perfect. To have zero room for any regrets - even if- if that regret would simply be it- it was a little too rushed.”

A part of her still thought Giles was overthinking it, but she couldn’t deny that she was still deeply touched by it, also. And anyway, that’s just who Giles was… he was a thinker. She still loved him with all of her self, even when his brain got in the way sometimes.

“I know we’ve had this conversation.” He said softly, looking away from her again. “I just… _I_ want to be there. Fully present. Not caught up in the moment because of some spell, or the fact that it might be our only free time alone together that day, or even because you might be about to go off and fight some evil creature… I want it to be about us. Just the two of us.”

Buffy couldn’t resist reaching out and touching her fingers lightly against his cheek. He flinched slightly, startled, but then almost immediately closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She slowly slid her fingers back until her palm rested fully against his cheek, and he quietly sighed.

“Giles…” She murmured. “Our schedules are lined up _right now_. We’re in your apartment… alone,” He opened his eyes again, without moving his head. “The door is locked… we aren’t expecting anyone else… and I don’t have classes tomorrow.”

His eyes darkened, immediately, and her breath quickened as she felt answering desire pool between her legs. She could _watch_ the wanting grow stronger within him, and that made her feel more powerful beyond the abilities of the Slayer.

Giles stared at her again, and after a beat suddenly inhaled deeply. The desire in his eyes drew her in, and she slowly pushed the pillow off of her lap, closing the distance between them, licking her lips in anticipation. His gaze lowered to the movement of her tongue, and his hand carefully slid across her shoulder, accepting her nearness. Neither of them paid any attention to the pillow tumbling to the floor.

“We could, perhaps,” He murmured, touching his nose against her forehead for a moment, before nuzzling her nose. He kissed her cheek, lingering and warm. "Buffy," He sighed longingly against her lips, and she loosely gripped the front of his sweater.

“I’m not gonna pretend to be interested in somebody else without some good quality smoochies from my real boyfriend.” She declared, but waited on him to connect their mouths.

With a groan of desire, he did just that, and wowee -

Talk about quality.

She cradled his cheeks again as they kissed, desperate to keep touching him, to feel his soft skin and his warmth. The fact she’d almost lost him yesterday - or thought that she had, at any rate - hit her again, and she whined against his mouth.

“What is it?” He breathed between kisses, seemingly content to keep doing this for a while, and Buffy trembled, sense-memory flooding her thoughts as she remembered all the different kisses they’d shared before.

“I thought you were dead,” She admitted with a bit of despair, and he softened his kisses against her jaw and her neck. “Eaten up by a demon. I can’t- I can’t ever do this again,”

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, concern pushing through the arousal in his expression.

“Do what again?” He worried.

“Not talk to you.” She stroked her thumbs lovingly against his cheeks, and his worry softened. “You and I, our duty - we put ourselves in danger all the time. I don’t ever want doubt between us again.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, so quietly and brokenly that she barely heard him, and she held him a little more firmly between her hands.

“I love you, Giles. I love everything about you. Even the dark bits you think no one could or should.” She grinned a small smile and added, “Even the nerdy bits that usually make me roll my eyes.”

That made his face soften with amusement, which is what she wanted, and she used her hold on him to pull him close again and kiss his forehead, and the bridge of his nose, and the curve of his cheek; mirroring his kisses to her earlier. His hand slid from her shoulder to the back of her neck, resting there warmly.

“I love all that you are with all that I am.” He murmured, carding his fingers beneath her hair and rubbing his fingertips against her skin. “The only thing I would ever judge you for is the fact you continually drop your shoulder when you jab with your right - ”

Buffy punched him in the chest, mostly gently, and he grunted and laughed, grabbing her wrist and holding her hand against him before she could pull away. He met her eyes, and rubbed his thumb against the back of her palm. She could see the depth of emotion in his eyes, the tenderness, the shy openness; and she was a little amazed that this was the same guy who had also fantasized about taking her atop the table in the high school library.

He lowered his head to press a soft kiss against her knuckles, lingering there for a long minute, until he eventually took a deep breath and got to his feet. He held his hand out for her, palm up, and the clear nervousness in him actually comforted her own nerves a little. She slid her fingers into his palm and gripped his hand firmly as she stood as well, and he gave her a tiny smile before slowly leading her toward the stairs.

She reached out with her free hand and clicked his desk lamp off as they passed it, and his fingers tightened around hers reflexively, perhaps encouraged by her action. As she followed him up the steps, she couldn’t resist sliding her hand up underneath his sweater and shirt, touching the warm skin of his lower back, and she felt the tiny tremble of his muscles beneath her touch.

After everything, after all their heavy make-out sessions and occasional impatiently fumbling hands, Buffy expected this part to be urgent, and over before she could blink. But Giles took his time undressing her, revealing each bit of her skin in front of him and reveling in it like she was one of his priceless museum artifacts. Buffy returned the favor, her arms working around his, understanding the indulgence in the moment. She was somewhat surprised in herself that she didn't feel awkward about this part, or unsure of her hands. Their bodies already knew one another - it's just the context that's different.

When they were left in boxers, bra, and panties, they both paused, their eyes doing most of the caressing now. Buffy knew that she was visibly breathing heavier as she gazed at him, but she didn’t have to hide that anymore. It was… liberating, being free to show him how he made her feel.

She let her palms explore the dips and curves of muscle in his arms, the tempting parts of him that she’d occasionally see during training but she'd yet to be able to appreciate like she wanted to. She slid her hands over his collarbone, down through his chest hair, smiling at the crisp feel of it against her fingertips. Then she lightly drifted her touch over the small scar near his shoulder, the one she knew had a matching mark on his back, a little more reserved now.

“I’m sorry about this.” She murmured, and he combed his fingers through her hair and gave her a small smile.

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

“A few inches lower and you could have died, Giles.” Buffy said as if he needed reminding.

“I don’t think of that when I see it.” He promised her, allowing his fingers to trail slowly down the front of her throat now. “I think of you telling me that you want to have kinky sex with me.” He grinned, and she blushed and gaped.

“You’re such a- a man!” She huffed, and his grin widened until his teeth showed now.

“I am,” He purred, “and dontcha just love that about me?”

She decided not to inform him that he hadn’t quoted her _exactly_ , and slid her palm flat across his chest, playing with his chest hair again.

“I do,” She murmured, and their teasing moment was over. She pushed him gently toward the bed, where he immediately sat and shifted to the center, lying on his back and reaching out for her as she moved to straddle him. Both of her hands explored his tummy and torso with leisure, and he sighed deeply, arching his chest against her touch as his hands rested just above her bent knees.

He wasn’t touching her more than that, yet, just letting her explore him fully to her heart’s desire, but he _was_ letting her know how her touch affected him. The sounds he was making alone were enough to make her wet.

“I can’t believe I… ever doubted myself, about this- I mean, about you, anyway…” Buffy murmured, a little bit amused, as she slowly trailed her nails down the center of Giles’ torso.

“And now you sound smug,” He teased, breathless, his tummy twitching beneath her touch. She glanced up toward his eyes, hesitant, but he was smiling warmly. “If you feel… for me,” He gasped softly as she touched a sensitive spot over his ribs and half-giggled, “the way that I feel for you, right- right now, then I would be smug too,” He hummed what could’ve been a half-moan as she slid her fingernails lightly across his hip bone.

She’d avoided looking at his boxers, until now, and the tent in them made her breathless.

“Is that a long-winded way to say that my smugness has been earned?” Buffy smirked, and he rolled his eyes and smiled, though his hands clenched around her legs and his cock twitched heavily. She sucked in a sharp breath and darted her eyes back up toward his, questioning.

He wet his lips with his tongue and nodded, loosening his grip only enough so that she could sit up on her knees and give him room to lift his hips from the mattress. Her heart felt like it was thudding in her ears as she hooked her fingers beneath the elastic band and slowly tugged it down. Partially erect, his length bounced against his thigh as he resettled on the mattress, the head peeking out at her, and she found herself filled with that particular sense of pride again.

“I think I’ve dreamt of you every single night since the car,” She admitted as she slid down to his ankles, removing the cotton fabric entirely without taking her eyes off of him. She wasn’t sure what her expression was as she watched him visibly grow thicker and a bit longer, but he groaned loudly and gripped her arms, dragging her back up and over him to kiss her deeply.

“I promised to take my time with you,” He growled, touching his tongue against her lips and tangling his hands into her hair. Kissing him like this, she straddled closer to his bellybutton than his pelvis, but she arched her hips against him anyway, wanting to show him that she was just as aroused - if not more aroused - as he.

His fingertips trailed hotly down her spine like licks of fire, sending a swirling, curling storm of desire through her even before he reached her backside and squeezed her down more firmly against him. She whimpered and his tongue fluttered into her mouth, stroking slowly and sensuously as he encouraged her to continue rubbing her now very damp underwear against his skin.

She didn’t know what to do with her own hands, getting caught up in everything he was making her feel, and she rotated between gripping his shoulders, stroking his neck, and clasping either side of his head.

Eventually, he shifted his legs like he wanted to roll them over, and she slid her hands down his arms to guide his fingers to the back of her bra, first. He trailed open-mouthed, sucking kisses down her neck as he wrapped his arms around her to unhook the band, and she couldn’t help but moan again as she recalled a particular dream she’d had what felt like years ago.

He struggled when one of the three hooks caught momentarily, and she whined impatiently. He chuckled and caught her lips in a kiss again, distracting her as he managed to free the last hook and trail his fingers back up her shoulders to remove the straps down her arms. Then, he urged her to roll over again and she let him this time, lifting her arms up so that he could remove her bra on the way.

He tossed it over his shoulder behind him a bit cheekily, and she laughed. His eyes sparkled with delight as he smiled in return, and she felt breathlessly overwhelmed with love for him.

“Kiss me, please,” She half-whispered, her voice surprising her a little with the dark catch of lust in it, and he looked briefly concerned but complied quickly. Her hands trembled against his sides and he kissed her softly, warm and comforting.

“We can slow down,” He murmured gently, having seen the wetness in her eyes, and she shook her head and kissed him harder for a moment, before prying her mouth away to tell him,

“I love you. I just love you.” Her voice shook now, and he made a crooning sound as he peppered slow kisses along her jaw, and down the side of her neck. There was so much emotion spiraling inside of her; it was all good things but she couldn’t seem to keep it from leaking out of her eyes. “I love you _so much_.”

“God, Buffy, I love you too,” He returned earnestly, kissing over her collarbone, and atop the thumping of her heart in her chest. She squirmed beneath him again, reminded of the aching hardness of her nipples, her arousal fogging over her riotous emotion until she felt like she was in a cloud, again.

He slid his mouth over her left nipple, sucking a moderate pressure that was like a bolt of lightning cementing her back to earth. She wasn’t a cloud, now, she was a volcano, and she could feel the flush of heat beneath her skin. The pads of her fingers dug a little more firmly into his shoulders and he kissed the center of her chest one more time before quickly sliding down to the foot of the bed.

“Buffy,” His voice was rough now, too, and held an intent that made her shiver. He hooked his thumbs into the band of her panties against her hips, and paused to wait in silent question. His desire was hot and dark in his eyes, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning again as she nodded.

He removed this last piece of clothing between them slowly, incongruent with the fiery passion in his gaze, his trailing fingers touching her skin more than the panties as he drew them down her legs and off. When they joined his boxer briefs on the floor, he paused for a moment, rubbing his thumbs against the bottom of her feet as he gazed at her.

“I’m not dreaming,” He half-questioned, half-stated, and Buffy quirked a smile at him.

“I hope not, ‘cause that would mean I am, too. And it’d be a great dream and all, but is way better being real.”

His warm, wet tongue slowly stroked the soft skin at the inside of her ankle, and he glanced up to meet her eyes as he paused again, gauging her reaction. She was startled at the immediate jolt of effect that had on her, both his touch and the expression in his eyes. He licked that spot again more fully, his gaze unwavering, and it was as if the nerves he was touching led a direct line to her sex. She could feel her mouth part as she watched him, her breath hold slightly as she anticipated where he would next touch her, and her fingers pressed into the sheets a little bit harder as he smiled that tiny pleased smile of his.

Continuing to move slowly, he gently nuzzled the curve of her calf, giving her eskimo kisses that were followed by a warm swipe of his tongue. The inside back of her knee was another spot that made her quiver, and he guided her legs a little further apart as he settled there for a few moments. He eventually continued his upward trek after she restlessly used her unoccupied leg to rub her foot against his back, urging him on.

He curled his arm beneath that leg, guiding it to rest over his shoulder and against his back as he continued to kiss, nuzzle, and lick his way along her other thigh until he finally reached the place that was, by now, far beyond aching for him. He didn’t hesitate at all as he met her eyes once more and continued moving in, sliding his palms against her sensitized skin until his fingers reached the apex of her thighs and opened her up for better access for his mouth.

Buffy’s own mouth dropped open again at the burst of almost painful pleasure that erupted through her as he went down on her. He watched her closely as he worked his hot tongue around her folds, exploring her and cataloguing everything that made her writhe, and whine, and clench her fists around the bedsheets. It was too much; his unwavering stare and the pressure of his mouth, and her fingers clawed at his shoulders as she wasn’t sure whether to pull him impossibly closer or push him away just so she could catch her breath for a second.

She gasped out a cry of pleasure before she could help it or contain it, and the half of his face that she could see looked delighted. He moaned approvingly and she felt the sound travel through her entire body, and as he shifted his hips against the comforter he lay on top of, her spine arched and her head fell back against the pillow before she even realized she was coming.

She wasn’t sure she said anything recognizable, except perhaps his name, but she did know that she was loud. Her orgasm was far too glorious for her to care, however, and Giles only encouraged it as he didn’t let up, sliding his fingers inside of her to give her core muscles something to grip onto and pressing the flat of his tongue against her pulsing bundle of nerves. She writhed against his face and he only hummed again, moving with her, waiting to pull away until she collapsed still beneath him, her heaving breath and uncontrollable quivers the only reasons she was otherwise still moving.

“Bloody hell,” Buffy gasped, stretching her legs languorously and stroking her feet down his back approvingly. He laughed at her choice of exclamation, looking more pleased with himself than she’d ever seen before, and rested his cheek against her thigh as he licked his lips and used the back of his hand to get the rest of her juices off of his chin.

It took her another minute to gather her bearings, and he meanwhile nuzzled the inside of her thigh every now and then, and rubbed his thumb over the curve of her hip.

“I think you’ve done it,” She informed him, still fairly breathless, soothing her fingers against the skin on his shoulders that she hadn’t broken but was quite reddened.

“Hm?” His eyes were closed as he breathed her in, his tongue swiping wide and slow against her skin again, and she jolted violently, extremely sensitive to his touch now.

“I don’t think I can walk,” She managed to tell him around her moan, and felt his smile. He pressed tender, open-mouthed kisses up her thigh and over her hip, marking a path back up her body until he was stretched above her, face-to-face again. He was flushed too, though not as much as she, and his arousal hung heavily between them.

She reached her hand down to grasp him, her touch feather-light, and his arms shook for a moment as if they’d been about to give out.

“I can wait,” He told her, slowly nuzzling his nose against hers. She shifted her hips up to rub the tip of his cock against her abdomen, feeling the wetness of precome, and he sucked in a sharp breath before humming deeply.

“I’m ready,” She assured him, forming a fist to stroke him more outright. “I want you.”

“Christ,” He whispered, his gaze holding hers intently. “I’ll never tire of hearing that.” She shifted her other hand up to his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the corner of his mouth. After a moment he glanced over toward the bedside table, and she moved her hand to his back to hold him still before he shifted over.

“You can wear a condom if you want, but, I’m on the pill.” She told him, and he focused back on her.

“Do you want me to wear one?”

“No. I don’t.” She gave him a long, firm stroke, rubbing the side of her thumb against the ridge of his cock, and his eyes closed as his hips jerked toward her fist.

He kissed her deeply again, dipping his tongue into her mouth and stroking her with it as he reached down and brushed his hand against hers, together guiding the head of his cock to her entrance.

She slid her hand around his hip and to his ass as he pushed into her, steady and unhesitating until their bodies were fully pressed together; hip to hip, torso to torso.

“Oh,” He sighed softly with pleasure, and lowered his head next to hers on the pillow for a moment, his cheek pressing against hers.

His mouth and his fingers were good - they were fantastic - but this deep, fulfilled feeling was what she’d been craving. The full length of him, hard and heavy, nestled inside of her as his body rested on top. She wanted the weight of his body, his heat, his sweat and all, and wrapped her arms around him tightly to make sure he didn’t pull away too far.

His muscles felt like they were straining already, and she massaged her fingers against his back.

“We have all night, Giles,” She murmured her reminder, and she felt him nod and take a deep, settling breath. She groaned softly as his cock throbbed within her, and then he began to move his hips, driving slow and deep as much as she would allow him to pull away, head to hilt, over and over again until she wasn’t sure if she was some kind of bizarre mix between a cloud and a volcano all at once.

When her panting breath turned into more chanting encouragement, he quickened the thrust of his hips, a sort of power seeming to thrum between them as they both hurtled closer and closer to the edge of something she logically knew to be coming but could hardly fathom to think about.

All she knew was right now, this pounding heartbeat, and the next, how he felt and how he smelled and how he sounded and how he tasted.

“Buffy,” He moaned her name, longing and relieved all at once, and she really had no idea how she’d be able to hear him say her name normally ever again without remembering this moment, her name in his throat, his cock pushing between her legs.

“Mhm,” She hummed in dreamy agreement, sliding her hand against the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his hair.

His moan when he came was one long breath, like a low, lingering howl. It made her hair stand on end, her skin spark with energy, and she trembled and arched against him again, straining, squeezing her core and her legs around him as she desperately took everything he had to give.

Rupert Giles, her Watcher, in rapture.

For her.

Talk about having power.

His hips rutted up against her, jerking, out of tempo but just right so that she soon tensed up between him and the bed, overwhelmed in another orgasm of her own that almost felt verging on violent. She gripped the sheets next to her in her fists, distantly feeling her nails dig into the fabric, wanting this feeling to last forever as their bodies moved together.

He grunted deeply with every pulse of his cock, his face tucked into the crook of her neck again as his upper body lay almost boneless over her and his lower body worked through his orgasm.

“I love you,” He panted against her skin, trying to kiss her even without the breath to do so, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” He slid his mouth over her neck and her jaw, the flush of his cheeks hot against her own, his hair damp against her temple.

Once he eventually softened and slipped out of her, he rolled over onto his back beside her, his chest still rising pretty heavily. Buffy was still catching her breath, too, though she felt recovered enough to shift onto her side to face him.

After another minute he mirrored her, and they lay facing one another in a sated silence, comfortably cooling sweaty skin in the gentle warmth of the evening, bed linens all rumpled to the floor. They weren’t quite cuddling, but he stretched his left arm up above her head, elbow bent so he could lightly stroke his fingers through her hair. She reached her right arm across the space between them as well, mirroring his gentle gestures with the pads of her fingers and her nails against his chest.

“What?” Giles mumbled, wondering of the Mona-Lisa-smile on her face, slowly twisting a strand of her hair around his finger.

“You’re all… mushy.” Buffy giggled lightly, and his answering smile was slow and a little goofy. He was breathtakingly gorgeous, with that smile and his hair mussed and his comfortable nakedness.

“You make me… all mushy.” He copied her wording and shifted his head closer to kiss her lovingly, which she happily returned for a moment.

“You make me feel… someplace else.” Buffy murmured thoughtfully. Oh, her voice sounded just as pleased as she felt. She was too happy to be embarrassed about it, though.

“Hm?” Giles wondered, his eyes content and fond as he relaxed against his pillow again to gaze at her. It was not a distracted sound; it was one of encouragement for her to continue, to elaborate, and a part of her marveled that he could make one noise sound so different in so many ways.

“When you’re inside of me,” She explained openly, comfortable talking like this with him in a way she’d never imagined being with anyone, really. “I feel like I’m not on the Hellmouth anymore. I feel like… we’re on another plane of existence. I’m perfectly, absolutely safe. And more than that, _you’re_ safe. Even when you’re on top of me, I’m the one holding you, surrounding you, protecting you. You’re inside of me and it’s the safest place you could ever be.” She wasn’t speaking out of self-pride; she felt grateful more than anything else. Honored.

“Bloody hell, Buffy,” Giles murmured with a chuckle, drawing her close to press his mouth against her forehead. “You make me feel like a randy teenager.”

He softly kissed down her nose to reach her lips, and she laughed against him, shifting closer and sliding her legs against him, skin brushing against skin. They were both still lingering in that heady post-orgasm haze, so it wasn’t so much as arousing as it just felt _good_.

“But I understand,” He whispered between kisses. “I have always trusted you with my life. Being inside of you is… a culmination of… everything I love, and admire, and trust, about my Slayer. My _Buffy_. About being your…” He pulled his head back so that he could look at her, and Buffy smiled sleepily at him.

“My Watcher.” She assured him, blinking heavily as the warm and cozy moment threatened to lull her to sleep. “My guy.” Then, she giggled. “My Bad Idea.”

“Yours in everything.” He promised, giving her forehead another lingering kiss. He cuddled her against his chest, then, and she settled in for a little nap.

They had nowhere to be, no prophecies to avert. They could stay in bed for the whole next day, if they so wanted. This peace wouldn’t last, but Buffy would take what she could get.

“Best damn idea I ever had.” She proclaimed, wrapping her arms around him, reveling in his scent that surrounded her like a blanket.


	22. Chapter 21 (Hush)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not even gonna try and make this chapter as spooky as the episode really is. I dare not tread. XD x

_“Can’t even shout, can’t even cry, the Gentlemen are coming by. Looking in windows, knocking on doors, they need to take seven and they might take yours. Can’t call to Mom, can’t say a word, you’re gonna die a-screaming but you won’t be heard.”_

Buffy jerked awake just as she turned to find not Giles’ hand on her shoulder, as she’d expected, but… something else’s. Something that filled her with a sense of fear she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl.

“So I’ll see you all on Monday for a final review session.” Professor Walsh dismissed the class, and Buffy blinked away her nightmare as she looked around the room to find everyone packing up and heading out.

“Man, that was an exciting class, huh?” Willow mused brightly, a little grin on her face when Buffy glanced at her.

“Oh, yeah. Wow.” She couldn’t shake the creep of a cold shiver trickling up her spine.

“And the last twenty minutes, it was a revelation! Just laid out everything we need to know for the final. I’d hate to have missed that.”

Okay, busted.

“Just tell me I didn’t snore.” Buffy pleaded wryly as she closed up her notebooks and tucked them into her bag.

“Very discreet.” Willow promised. “Minimal drool.”

“Oh, yay.” Buffy sighed, and Willow nudged her elbow into her side as she followed her down the rows to the door.

“Didn’t get much sleep this weekend?” Willow teased, her excitement barely contained. “I noticed you didn’t come back to the room until very early this morning…” She elbowed her again, and Buffy ducked her head nervously as she tucked her hair behind her ear and waited until they’d made it into the hallway before responding. “You were dreaming about something,” Willow encouraged, and Buffy decided to focus on the scary parts of her nightmare, and not on what had happened before it’d become a nightmare… Giles liked his privacy, after all.

“Yeah. And it was kind of intense.” Buffy admitted, and Willow brightened up even more. 

“Intense? Really? ‘Cause you seemed so peaceful.” Riley interrupted, gently chiding her as he joined them from where he’d been waiting by the door. Willow smirked, and Buffy blushed. She didn’t want to get in trouble for dozing of in class, especially so soon before the break.

“Of course, it was only for a moment.” She defended herself.

“Right.” His smile told her he was just giving her a hard time, and wasn’t going to pull t.a. rank on her, and she relaxed a bit. “Hey, you guys headed over toward Judd?”

“Uh, student center,” Buffy told him. She wasn’t really hungry; she couldn’t shake off the cold feeling on her spine.

“Oh, great.” Riley hoisted his bag more securely on his shoulder, obviously wanting to join along, and Buffy inwardly sighed. “So, this dream -”

“You know, you guys go.” Willow interrupted, giving Buffy a look that promised an intense interrogation later on. “I just remembered I promised to help Tara with the Wicca thing.”

Buffy gave her a look - she really did not want to be left alone with Riley right now - but schooled her features quickly when Riley glanced back toward her.

“Kay. Bye.” She said awkwardly, and Willow grinned before heading away from them.

“Bye,” Riley told Willow, and then bumped Buffy with his shoulder. “So, tell me about your dream. As a psych major, I’m qualified to go ‘hmm’.”

“I… don’t really remember it.” Buffy hedged, sensing Willow backtrack and sidle up to the open awning to spy on them. She pretended not to notice.

“Well… did I appear at all, in this dream?” Riley wondered, and Buffy raised her eyebrows. She had to admire his boldness, at least. They strolled by the awning where Willow stood with her notebook raised in front of her face, and Buffy carefully admitted for her benefit,

“Actually, it was… not that kind of dream. A, um… old friend of mine, from high school, mostly.”

“Oh? One of your friends I’d met before?” Riley wondered innocently, and Buffy shook her head, answering a bit distractedly now,

“Oh, no, he’s not a student here. He’d have been a professor if anything,” She snorted, and Riley looked surprised. “I, uh, I mean… he’s like, my mentor. Like I said, not that kind of dream.” She babbled, and Willow snorted, now behind them. When Buffy glanced back to glare at her, she quickly turned, notebook still in front of her face, and quickly stepped away from her spying spot.

“Oh, well, of course,” He really did sound like a psych major, now, and Buffy smiled in amusement. “Nothing wrong with that. With finals coming up right after Thanksgiving break, it totally makes sense you’d be thinking about your mentor. Did he help you a lot through high school?”

“He did.” Buffy murmured softly, memories of study sessions that at the time had been annoying and occasionally frustrating, but were now fond. “Especially with my SAT’s.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“Why?” Buffy tilted her head at him slightly as they strolled out the main doors of the building and down the steps.

“Sorry,” Riley chuckled a little at himself. “I’ve still got my t.a. hat on, I guess. I’m just saying, if you need a new study partner, I could help.”

“Thanks, Riley.” Buffy told him earnestly, and he smiled. He really was sweet, and she needed to be careful about letting him too close. She liked him, and she didn’t want to hurt him… but if she turned away his light flirtations now, she worried that he would stop trying to be her friend at all, and she wouldn’t get any closer to figuring out his or Professor Walsh’s connections with the Initiative.

**... ... ...**

Buffy was relieved to find that Willow and Tara’s study sesh was happening somewhere other than their dorm room.

_“Can’t even shout, can’t even cry. The Gentlemen are coming by. It sounds vaguely familiar.”_ Giles mused over the phone. The sound of his voice already took away some of the cold feeling from her nightmare. _“You’re sure it’s nothing you heard when you were a child?”_

“I’ll die a-screaming?” Buffy snarked. “I don’t know what nursery rhymes you English people sing to your kids, but we don’t get much darker beyond ‘rock-a-bye baby’ - which, let me tell you, _why_ anyone finds that song _comforting_ is totally beyond me -”

_“Alright, alright,”_ Giles soothed before she really got her rant going, and she took a breath. _“Nothing else?”_

“It… it scared me, Giles. I mean, more than usual.” She could tell him later about the nice smoochies they’d been having prior to the creepy factor butting in. “Do you think it was real?”

_“Well, it- it could um, definitely be one of your prophetic dreams, or it could just be the eternal mystery that is your brain.”_ Giles teased, and she stuck her tongue out at the phone. _“I’ll check it out, and I’ll let you know if I find something.”_ He promised.

“Thanks, Giles.” Buffy said softly. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she felt nervous for some reason. “See you later?”

_“All right,”_ He replied happily, _“Bye-bye.”_

She hung up the phone, smiling to herself.

“Was that Giles?” Willow breezed into the room behind her, and Buffy jumped.

“Geez, Will!” She accused, feeling defensive. Then she felt ridiculous for feeling defensive, and fussed with her hair as she sat back down on the edge of her bed.

“It _was_ Giles, wasn’t it.” Willow grinned widely as she tossed her bag beside her bed and flounced onto Buffy’s next to her. “Spill! You stayed over the whole weekend! Did you two…?” Buffy hesitated, and Willow squealed. “I knew it! You’ve had this goofy smile on your face all day! Details! Well, not details, I don’t need a diagram, but maybe like a blurry watercolor! Ohh, I love this part! Don’t you love this part? When it’s all new and everything’s a discovery!”

“Willow!” Buffy laughed a little, overwhelmed, and Willow’s excitement quieted down just slightly.

“Right, you and Giles aren’t _all_ new. But there’s still some discovery, right?” Willow smiled hopefully, and Buffy smiled back and nodded.

“Oh, yeah.” She assured, blushing a little as she thought about how wonderful it had been, waking up just as the sun began to rise, with his soft sleepiness and his ruffled hair and his loving words. Giles was _adorable_ in the mornings.

Willow squealed and wiggled happily, but Buffy gave her a warning look and shook her head.

“That’s all you’re getting from me,” She warned. “You know Giles is private about this stuff.”

“But what’s it like?” Willow almost whispered in wonder. “I mean, not _it_ it. But like… _Giles_. Is he a secret sweet-talker?”

Buffy hesitated again, but she couldn’t resist wanting to share her delight and her adoration with her best friend. She nodded, and Willow squealed again.

“I knew it! Well, I didn’t know it, but I suspected it! So, you said the other day that this was for real - for really real?” She asked, and Buffy nodded again.

“To… put a single word to what I feel for Giles is… impossible.” Buffy admitted thoughtfully. “Nothing sounds good enough. Sure, there’s… passion, the desire to be with him completely and totally in a way that would leave no question about the _strength_ of my feelings.” Willow’s eyes widened in amazement and she silently leaned closer, hanging on Buffy’s words. “It’s desperation; familiar because of Angel, yet so very different - it’s not like fire, burning hot and flaming out until waiting for the next ‘end of the world’ moment so it can spark hot again.” Buffy paused. “This kind of passion never goes away. Whether I feel… passionately adoring, passionately angry, passionately annoyed… my emotions regarding Giles are constant. Molten. Lava? Or is that magma? Roiling just beneath my skin, waiting for that perfect moment to burst through the cracks and take me over…” She trailed off, and Willow swallowed.

“Wow.” She startled Buffy back into focus, and she blushed in dismay, not having meant to quite say all of that out loud.

“Yes, there’s no shortage of passion between us.” She murmured shyly, and Willow squeezed her hand encouragingly between both of her own.

And yet, as overwhelming as that could have been - perhaps should have been - it was tempered by an equal amount of tenderness. Giles pretended to be stoic and unemotional, and the Scoobies teased him constantly for his ‘British reserve’, but as much as Buffy went along with the teasing, she knew better.

He had such a capacity for love in his heart; she could see it in the way he worked with Willow, studying spells and researching demons, carefully following the advice of his friends in England. She saw it in the way he bantered with Xander, pretending to be annoyed by all the nicknames but always offering up a gentle smile when he thought no one else was looking. The way he always made sure to have extra food at his house, joking about Xander’s bottomless stomach but knowing the young man might not always get dinner in his own home. How he had done his best to make Oz as comfortable as possible in the book cage, during his ‘time of the month’. Even in the way he’d begun to let up on Wesley a bit over the summer, training with him to make him a better Watcher as he took on a more direct role with Faith and stopped trying to force his way between Buffy and Giles.

His love was a quiet love, and she found that more reassuring than she could express. With Angel there was always pain, always brooding, in the forefront or behind every other emotion. When Giles looked at her, even when she vexed him, there was always affection in his eyes.

“I’ve known love.” Buffy murmured. “Troubled love, but sweet and exciting in moments, heady because it was my first.” She nodded to herself. “I’ve known love, but Giles taught me… ecstasy.”

“ _Buffy_!” Willow giggled, and Buffy refocused again to find her best friend’s cheeks almost as red as her hair.

“I don’t mean just physically!” Buffy protested, blushing more deeply as well.

“ _Just_ physically?!” Willow giggled, and Buffy playfully pushed at her, ducking her head away. “So I guess there’s no worries about me needing to tie you two together to figure things out, huh?” Willow teased, and Buffy quickly blinked away the images _that_ brought to mind.

“Enough with the vicarious smoochies.” Buffy huffed, tapping Willow’s knee. “Have you talked to Oz lately? How is he?”

“He called this morning before classes,” Willow got that dreamy look on her face that she always got about Oz, which made Buffy smile as well, a part of her also wondering if that was the same goofy face she’d mentioned Buffy made about Giles. “While you were still sneaking back to the dorms, likely,” Willow teased, “Or getting your last minute snuggly time in -”

“No more talking about Giles!” Buffy laughed, not about to let Willow persuade her to get distracted by her dirty thoughts about morning-Giles.

“Fine, fine…” Willow sighed, but got that little Oz smile again. “He still won’t even give me a hint about when he might be back, but, he does sound better… more like himself again.”

“Not sure I’ve ever heard Oz speak enough to know when he sounds like as himself.” Buffy quipped, and Willow raised her eyebrow.

“Except when you’re telling him about your secret affair with your _Watcher_.” She pointed out with a pretend huff, and Buffy winced.

“I am sorry about that, Will.”

“I know.” Willow softened. “That must’ve been pretty scary, huh? When he was all demony?”

“And here we are on Giles again…” Buffy sighed, and Willow protested.

“I don’t have much anything new to say! Oz is doing okay but he’s still really far away and he sends his love to the gang.” She threw her hands into the air in a gesture of fruitlessness. “You and Giles are _way_ more interesting, and distracting me from my lonelys. So? Fess up! When did all this actually start? Who told who first? I have my suspicions but I want to hear it from you first before I start revealing evidence.”

Buffy laughed, and got up to get a few sodas from the mini fridge for them both. This was going to be a long conversation.

**... ... ...**

When their last class was over for the day, Buffy and Willow agreed to go to the Magic Box together. Giles had wanted her to come over for some training, and Buffy also hoped he might’ve found something about her disturbing dream.

Willow spent the whole walk playfully teasing Buffy, so that by the time they got to the shop, Buffy felt tongue-tied and flustered and shy, unable to look Giles directly in the eye. She felt like she had a brand new crush on him all over again. He looked so handsome in that corduroy sweater, his countenance relaxed and somehow… glowy.

Oh God, there was a satisfied air about him that was _so obvious_ , Buffy immediately glanced over toward Anya, expecting the worst. She seemed focused on her inventorying, however, and barely even glanced up to them.

“Good afternoon, Willow, Buffy.” Giles greeted warmly with a smile, then looked back to the papers in front of him on the counter. “Just give me a moment with these receipts and I’ll join you.”

“Join me…” Buffy repeated distractedly, slowing to a halt in the middle of the room as Willow veered off to the reading table to unload her bookbag. Giles glanced back up toward her again, his brow raised curiously.

“I assume you’re here for training?”

“Training, yes.” She replied breezily. “Uh, of course.” Ignoring the odd look Anya was giving her, and the smug one from Willow, she hurried into the back room and hoped her growing blush hadn’t been too obvious.

She couldn’t believe she felt nervous, of all things, and _now_. She tried to focus her breathing as she fetched the boxing supplies from the cabinet and began to wrap her hands.

When she heard Giles enter the room behind her and close the door, her pulse picked up again.

“We should work on your left side primarily, today. Your dominance with your right is beginning to become quite noticeable during patrols.”

When she looked up from her hands to nod in acceptance, her fingers paused, watching as he removed his glasses and then shrugged off his sweater, pulling it over his head and then down his arms. He set it over the arm of the couch before straightening his undershirt and his rumpled hair.

“What is it?” He asked, his hand pausing against the back of his head. “You disagree?”

“No,” Buffy assured him, looking back down at the wraps and chuckling a little nervously at herself. “It’s nothing. Left side. Got it.” She fumbled with the wraps, though, and then Giles was there, close enough to settle his hand over hers and halt her movements.

“Buffy?” He had a small, curious smile on his face, and she smiled crookedly, a bit self-deprecating.

“Sorry,” She chuckled again, and he must’ve understood something in her expression, because his smile softened before he began to finish wrapping her knuckles for her. “It’s silly.” She sighed, and he clucked softly under his breath.

“No, it isn’t. You feel… nervous?”

“In a good way,” She told him, not wanting him to think she was uncomfortable or scared or whatever, “Butterflies.” She touched her free hand against her belly for a moment, and his smile widened.

“I feel them too.” He murmured, making her pulse skip and race again.

He finished securing the protective padding on her other hand before pausing again, running his fingertips from her forearm down to the tips of her fingers, the skin he touched not covered by the wrap tingling like little sparks of static electricity. With her free hand she reached up to touch the collar of his white tee, sliding the pads of her fingers slowly down across the curve of his collarbone and his pec, to the center of his chest.

“I also feel…” He sighed and covered her hand with his own, gently guiding both of her hands back to herself before taking a step back. “Things I should not be feeling during training.” He gave her a rueful smile before gesturing his head toward the heavyweight bag. “Warm-ups, first.” He suggested, and she swallowed and blinked a few times, focusing herself before nodding and approaching the bag.

And although she was very aware of the exact amount of space he occupied as he slowly paced around her, observing her form and noting corrections as necessary, they fell into the easy rhythm that was training. Her butterflies quieted for the time being, replaced with the warm glow she always felt when she was in the same vibe as her Watcher.

She wondered if that was a ‘them’ thing, or a Slayer thing. She made a mental note to ask Faith about it the next time they talked.

**— — —**

It was disturbing enough waking up without a voice. It was worse walking through town and seeing the sheer despondency in everyone, just roaming about looking sorry for themselves. Buffy and Willow had quickly agreed to go to Giles’ house, after physically warning the street vendor a little about price gouging… and taking a few of his message boards off his hands.

Xander and Anya were both already in the living room, which Buffy found relieving. She wasn’t sure what this was all about or what kind of spell caused it, but it seemed to be affecting the whole town… which meant it was extremely powerful. At least her Scoobies were safe and within sight. When Xander hopped up from the couch to greet them, Giles noticed movement and looked up from his desk.

He looked immensely relieved to see the girls, and stood as Xander awkwardly waved toward them. Buffy waved back, and then looked at Giles, desperate. He rested his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, and she smiled a little and reached up to squeeze his hand. This thing really was affecting everybody.

Spying his pile of books and notes on his desk, she grabbed the notebook on top as Giles greeted Willow, who scribbled something on her whiteboard for him.

_Can’t even shout_

_Can’t even cry_

Oh God, her dream. She lifted the notebook up for Giles to see and pointed at it, but he shook his head and removed his glasses, telling enough that he hadn’t found anything of use.

Xander snapped his fingers a bunch to get their attention, and then jumped around the couch to turn up the news station that was on the tv. The other three gathered together behind the sofa to watch.

“Breaking news item from Sunnydale, California - apparently the entire town has been quarantined due to an epidemic of - as strange as this may sound - laryngitis.” It was odd and a bit jarring to hear the newsman’s voice even after just the few hours of complete vocal silence around her this morning. “It seems the town has been rendered unable to speak. There’s no word yet what might’ve caused this or what other effects might be seen from this epidemic.” Buffy reached back without turning her focus from the tv, brushing her fingers against Giles’ arm, and he slipped his hand into hers comfortingly. “Local authorities have issued a statement - a written statement, I should say - blaming recent flu vaccinations. A few skeptics call it a citywide hoax. In the meanwhile, Sunnydale has effectively shut down.” Buffy frowned, only then realizing she’d been resting her free hand on her stomach. This wasn’t just some kind of epidemic - her Spidey senses were clamoring with warnings. She just wasn’t sure why. “All schools and businesses will be closed for the time being, and residents are advised to stay home and rest up. The CDC has ordered the entire town quarantined. No one can go in or out until the syndrome is identified or the symptoms disappear. We’ll bring you more on that as it develops.”

She quickly slipped her hand free to tug her whiteboard from her neck, scribbling her plan for Giles. This sudden complete shutdown was going to throw the town into chaos, and she needed to be out there. Giles frowned at the white board after reading it, obviously not happy about it. He took it from her and erased her words with the side of his palm before writing even more quickly,

_What if you need help? Can’t call._

‘I’ll be okay, Giles.’ She mouthed to him. ‘Slayer, remember?’ She pointed at her own chest, and he gave her a wry look, and then wrote, and underlined a few times,

_Gentlemen. ???_

Buffy took the whiteboard from him and set it on top of the short bookshelf beside her, before resting both hands against his chest. When his gaze eventually softened, and looked apologetic, she slid her hands over his shoulders and stood tiptoe to kiss him.

He returned it confidently, his lips soft and warm, and for a second Buffy admittedly forgot that it wasn’t just the two of them in the room.

A half-clearing throat jolted them apart, and Buffy realized there was a stranger sitting in the corner, in Giles’ reading chair, a glass of whiskey in her hand. She was watching them with wry amusement, her lips pursed in a grin.

Buffy looked to Giles curiously, wondering who she was. She’d been so quiet - of course - and Buffy so distracted, she hadn’t even noticed her. The look on Giles’ face was not exactly as comforting as his kiss had been. Buffy frowned a little, wondering why he looked almost ashamed, now.

He reached around Buffy to pick up the whiteboard again, moving the marker across it much slower than he had been before, taking a breath before turning it around so everyone could read it.

_Buffy_

_Olivia_

The dead silence in the room was stifling, like a heavy weight against Buffy’s chest. Olivia. Phone-call-Olivia. And Xander had been right - she _was_ pretty. Buffy knew, of course, that Giles wouldn’t have… that Olivia’s mere presence didn’t mean anything, but seeing her sitting there so comfortably in Giles’ chair with Giles’ scotch and - she’d come all the way from England and Giles hadn’t told anyone. At least, that’s what Buffy figured from the Scoobies’ awkward glancing around at everything _except_ them.

Giles had kept her a secret. That was the unsettling thing.

‘It’s not what you think.’ Giles mouthed, and Buffy tilted her head at him, giving him a look that clearly read, ‘And what do I think?’ She wasn’t really sure entirely of what she was thinking right now. She just knew she needed to prepare for a long patrol. She couldn’t - this wasn’t a conversation they could have in front of everyone, not with the way her emotions were all confused, rolling around in the bottom of her gut.

They could hardly even physically _have_ a conversation right now, anyway.

‘Patrol.’ Buffy mouthed clearly at him, and gestured to get the rest of the gang’s attention. ‘Stay here. Safe.’

_Help research_ \- Willow promised on her whiteboard, giving Buffy a small smile. Her eyes fluttered toward Olivia briefly, and that comforted Buffy a little. Buffy trusted Giles implicitly, but it was nice to have Willow keeping an eye on Olivia… just in case she might try… something.

Giles followed her to the door, gently grabbing her arm as she stepped through.

‘Love you.’ He told her, worry clear in his eyes, and her responding smile was genuine.

‘Love you too.’ She promised, though she knew there was still hurt in her own eyes. She couldn’t help that.

It was a long trip to California from England, so either Olivia had completely surprised him on his doorstep this morning, or he’d known she was coming for at least a few days. And considering her voice was lost as well as everyone else’s… she’d arrived sometime last night.

It was the guilt in Giles’ eyes that unnerved Buffy. She knew he wouldn’t do anything serious, she wasn’t worried about that - but what exactly was he feeling guilty about?

What a perfect time to go voice-less. Buffy sighed to herself as she trudged around the courtyard fountain, and promised herself not to freak before they could figure out how to talk this out.

**... ... ...**

_Your boyfriend is morbid_ \- Willow sneakily wrote on her whiteboard as Giles fiddled with his doodled projector sheets, and Buffy elbowed her. She giggled - well, silently - and wiped her board clean as Giles thankfully switched out the gory, bloody ‘sketch’ with a rather cute one of hearts.

Xander caught their attention, and held his board up so the ladies could read it and then Giles.

_How do we kill them?!_

Buffy mimed thrusting a stake - you didn’t have to only be the undead to react badly to a pointy object through the chest. Xander gaped at her dumbly, and when she glanced toward Giles, he was staring at her much too still and his eyes were wider than usual. It was exactly the face she’d seen him make back when she was Little Miss Mindreader, and he was having dirty thoughts and didn’t want her to know. She frowned in confusion, and then looked at Willow, who glanced at her fist with a disapproving look.

Oh.

Geez.

She quickly fumbled a stake from her bookbag on the seat next to her, and repeated the action, much to the relief of the others. Giles blinked a few times and rubbed his palm nervously down the front of his shirt, and Buffy rolled her eyes at them all. Seriously, how would _that_ even make sense in this context?

_In the tales no sword can kill them_

Well, at least the accompanying doodle didn’t include blood, this time. And she was no princess, but she figured she was the most likely person in this town able to get her voice back from wherever it went. It was pretty disheartening that Giles didn’t know how to go about that, though.

Either way… she’d patrol while the others researched. She needed to try and keep these Gentlemen from stealing anymore people’s hearts… somehow. If she could figure out where they were hiding themselves during the day, maybe she could find everyone’s voices.

As everyone began gathering their stuff back together, Buffy gave Giles a hard time for his doodle of her. She stepped in front of him and backhanded him lightly in the tummy, making him huff out a breath of air. He frowned at her, and she gestured at her hips again, pouting. He put his hands on his own hips and rolled his eyes, visibly sighing, and Buffy hit him again.

He dropped his head down to give her a look, and then rested his hands high against her ribs, slowly sliding his palms firmly down her waist and over her hips… following the curve of her body. His smile grew as he did so, his eyes glittering cheekily, and Buffy fought to keep the grin off her own mouth.

He tugged her against him suddenly, making her (silently) gasp in surprise, and slid his hands back up her body then around her back. He winked, and she let him see the lopsided grin on her face. It felt good to have his hands on her, and he didn’t need to have his voice for her to see his affection in his eyes. He was so warm, and comfy, too…

Xander loudly tapped his pen against his whiteboard, turning their attention toward him, to find him standing there giving them a tired look. Anya was still shoving popcorn in her mouth, watching them with interest, and Buffy and Giles both sighed and parted.

She still wanted to clear the air about Olivia, later, but she knew that whatever it was Giles was feeling guilty about, it probably wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. She’d discovered over the years that he tended to blame himself for things he _thought_ he could control; things he shouldn’t be blaming himself for.

She gave him one more small, encouraging smile, and then headed out to get ready for another patrol.

**... ... ...**

When Buffy eventually returned to the apartment, dusty, bruised, and bleeding a bit, only Giles and Olivia were left. The others had already returned to their homes, but honestly Buffy didn’t mind. She was exhausted from the fight, and she wanted this conversation to be just between the three of them anyway.

“Buffy,” Giles sighed her name gratefully as she shuffled inside, and she offered him a tired smile before giving Olivia a wary one.

“Hey, Giles.” It felt good to have her voice back, and to hear her name in his. By the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, she imagined he might be thinking something the same, and that warmed her heart. “Olivia… are you two okay?”

“No Gentlemen sightings here.” Giles assured her, and he looked touched for a moment, possibly at her civility toward Olivia.

Well, she’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to throw a fit until she knew all the facts. She was new and improved, mature college Buffy.

But if she was given even one little reason, she was gonna kick Miss Britain’s ass.

“So, this is Buffy,” Olivia greeted her officially, rather warmly to her surprise, with a little amusement on her face. “I’d say she looks a bit young for you, Rupe, but I’m really not one to judge, am I?” She chuckled lightly, and Buffy tilted her head to the side as she looked a bit more closely at the other woman. She was older than Buffy, but she was actually closer to her age than she was Giles’.

Buffy raised her eyebrow toward Giles in wry amusement, and he flushed slightly.

“Your eyes don’t seem nearly as young as your face.” Olivia mused thoughtfully, and Buffy looked at her in startled surprise as she added toward Giles, “Is she one of your witches or demons?”

“I’m not a witch,” Buffy grimaced, “I don’t do the whole mojo thing too much; gives me the wiggins. We’ve got Giles and Willow for that.”

“She’s not a demon.” Giles said firmly at about the same time. “She’s my…” He hesitated, and when Olivia quirked her eyebrow he admitted, “When I was at the museum, I wasn’t just studying the occult out of interest,”

“All the time you used to talk to me about witchcraft and darkness and the like,” Olivia pursed her lips, looking a bit surprised herself, as well as wary. “I just thought you were being pretentious.” Buffy snorted quietly at that, very able to picture younger Giles trying to use his knowledge of the occult to show off.

“Oh, I was.” He admitted with a little smirk. “I was also right…” He trailed off and gave Buffy a sad look. She returned a ruefully encouraging smile; it’s not like it was his fault demons and vampires existed… they could only do their best to fight them and continue to protect the ignorant public.

“So everything you told me was true?” Olivia wondered, and Buffy wondered exactly what Giles had told her. When he’d first come to Sunnydale, he’d been all about being Mr. Secret and Clark Kent-ing Buffy’s identity. Olivia must’ve been really important at some point in time, for Giles to bring her in on this stuff.

“Well, no, um… I wasn’t actually one of the original members of Pink Floyd, but, about the monster stuff, yes.” He and Olivia both chuckled and Buffy opened her mouth in surprise.

“She’s the one you told that?” Buffy had gotten the impression that Olivia wasn’t someone so easily starstruck. “And it worked?” She asked the other woman dubiously, who laughed again.

“The line? No,” She smirked at Giles. “I didn’t believe it, anyway. But he was funny, and cute… and the band he _was_ in at the time wasn’t half bad.” She and Giles shared an equally amused look, a look that had history and a story behind it.

As much as she was trying not to, Buffy was starting to feel a little rankled. She’d never heard Giles play before - hell, she’d completely forgotten about the photo the gang had stumbled across a while ago, of guitar-playing, punk-looking Giles. Or, well, ‘Ripper’ at that point in time.

And while she knew Giles was ‘hers in everything’, as he’d promised before, these two had _history_ , years of history that Buffy would never be able to touch. Olivia had known a different version of Giles, and Buffy couldn’t help but think that unfair. It was ridiculous to think that, she knew that too - but she wanted to know all the versions of Giles… past and future. She wanted to know everything about him.

God, she really did have it bad for him.

“You really did join that reclusive club, didn’t you?” Olivia mused, sounding almost sad about it, surprising Buffy once again.

“I wouldn’t call the Watcher’s Council a _club_ , per se.” Giles grumbled. “But… yes. That’s where I studied when you knew me, where I was trained for the possibility of active duty.”

“They aren’t all active?” Olivia asked, and Giles gestured everyone toward the living room where they could talk more comfortably, settling beside Buffy on the couch as Olivia took the reading chair again.

That made Buffy feel a little better, and she resisted the urge to put her hand on his knee. She inwardly rolled her eyes at herself; not cool to act like a dog marking her territory.

“Normally there is only one Watcher active in the field at a time. The rest serve as… a support system of sorts. A fountain of knowledge when needed.”

“Support system, my ass.” Buffy grumbled, and Giles gave her a look. Pretending that she didn’t see it, she asked Olivia, “You know about the Council?”

“You hang out on the streets of London long enough, you hear whispers. They were hardly more than some kind of bogeyman; pompous big brother watching from the shadows, only interfering when it suited them.”

“Sounds about right.” Buffy muttered, and Giles cleared his throat.

“Much as you know I enjoy disparaging what the Council has become, let’s not get ourselves into a mood, hm?” He suggested pointedly, and Buffy sighed but agreed.

“So, you know Giles from when he was a curator?” Buffy asked Olivia, trying not to stare too intently at her as she answered. This wasn’t an interrogation… not really.

Maybe a little.

“I was a student when we met,” Olivia smiled slowly, her eyes sparkling with warm delight. The expression immediately made her look even more approachable and Buffy had no doubt that she often had guys eating out of her hand. “Studying architecture and design at university. Leaned more toward design, eventually, did some modeling for art students for extra cash… and here I am.”

“A student. Huh.” Buffy tilted her head at Giles, giving him a wry look. “You have a type.”

“That isn’t what it is at all, and you know it.” Giles groused, embarrassed and mildly insulted by the implication, and Buffy did put her hand on his knee then, apologetically.

“Just teasing you, Giles.” She amended softly, and he relaxed a little.

“You don’t call him Rupert?” Olivia wondered, eyeing them in a way that made Buffy’s shoulders tense a bit.

“No.” Buffy frowned, and tried it out, “Rupert.” After a moment she shook her head. “No, he’s always been Giles.” She wasn’t about to mention her ‘Watcher-mine’ endearment for him - she might call him that in front of other people sometimes, but no one else needed to know what it really _meant_.

“Almost everyone calls me Giles,” Giles pointed out. “You’re the only one who calls me ‘Rupe’, other than Ethan occasionally, and my mother calls me ‘Rupert’. I rather like the way Buffy says my name just fine.”

Buffy blushed deeply, at that, and Olivia laughed with surprise.

“I- I mean- well,” Giles stammered, embarrassed by his unintended suggestiveness.

“No need to be stuffy in front of _me,_ Rupe.” Olivia teased, and Buffy’s lip twitched at her tone. Then Olivia frowned slightly and asked more seriously, “Ethan? The same Ethan you told me you used to pal around with before we met?”

“Um… yes.” Giles admitted. “He’s made a couple of unannounced appearances in town, over the last few years.” Olivia caught the look on Buffy’s face, and her eyebrow quirked upward.

“No lost love with the old mate, huh?” Olivia nodded at her. “From the stories I’d heard, I don’t blame you.”

Buffy was a bit wrong-footed, at odds with the camaraderie she sometimes felt with Olivia, warring with her territoriality.

“How old _are_ you? If you don’t mind me asking.” Olivia wondered.

“Olivia- ” Giles warned.

“I do mind.” Buffy bristled, and Olivia lifted her hands up in an apologetic gesture, though her expression didn’t really change.

This _was_ an interrogation, on both sides. Buffy reminded herself that Giles had said Olivia was an old friend, and regardless that he didn’t fancy her romantically anymore he probably wouldn’t be too happy about Buffy throwing her out of his house. Slowly, she relaxed. She’d had some of _her_ questions answered, after all.

“I’m actually, uh, a couple years or so older than I’m supposed to be,” She hesitated, glancing toward Giles for help. Did Olivia know about other dimensions? _Should_ she know? There was a certain point of keeping the general public unaware of _all_ the otherworldly aspects around them. Dispelling chaos, and all that.

“A, um, side effect,” Giles quickly covered. “from a… spell, that a demon used on her.”

“ _Demons_ use spells, too? Bloody hell.” Olivia muttered, looking a bit overwhelmed.

Buffy started to shrug off her leather jacket to get more comfortable, and was painfully reminded of her stab wound.

“Ah!” She hissed at the sharp burn to the left of her spine; she bet had the Gentlemen gotten the chance, they would’ve cut her heart out from the back.

“You’re hurt,” Giles realized suddenly, quickly grasping the collar of her jacket and pulling it down her arms for her. She winced again, but it was better than maneuvering out of it herself. Giles sucked in a breath as he distractedly hung the jacket over the back of the couch, his hands returning to her shoulders to guide her so he could see her back more directly.

“That bad, huh?” Buffy bit her lip as he carefully tucked his finger into the rip in her shirt and pulled it away from the wound to get a better look at it.

“You’re still bleeding,” Giles chided, getting to his feet and disappearing to the bathroom for a moment.

Olivia looked a little pale as she stared at Buffy with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had worse.” Buffy assured her, keeping her tone blithe. That didn’t seem to comfort Olivia too much, and she knew it was petty but she smiled inwardly. She had stuff with Giles that Olivia couldn’t touch, too.

“He speaks as if he’s a soldier,” She sounded a bit confused and overwhelmed again. “Active duty? In the field? And -” She cut herself off as Giles came back into the room with the first-aid box in his hand, opening it up on top of the coffee table and quickly pulling out the supplies he needed. “You’ve got a _massive_ triage kit in _your_ _bathroom_?” She gave them both an appalled look. “What do you _do_?”

“Fight monsters.” Buffy shrugged, then winced again, and Giles clucked his teeth, chiding.

“I am a Watcher.” Giles explained tersely as he lifted up the back of Buffy’s shirt over her shoulders. She held it up out of the way best she could with her right hand, trying not to pull her tender skin too much. “Buffy is my Slayer. The Chosen One… of two, now.”

“Please don’t do the speech,” Buffy begged as she felt him dab gauze against the slow flow of blood, cleaning the area as much as he could until the flow eventually tapered off.

“Chosen one of two? Slayer?” Olivia shook her head. “What?”

“He’s gonna do the speech,” Buffy groaned in embarrassment.

“Into every generation there is one girl, chosen alone to wield the strength and skill to stand against the forces of darkness,” Giles huffed quietly, mildly amending the speech shorter, to her relief. “Christ, this is deep. Clean, though. What was it? Something extremely sharp.”

“Big scalpel,” Buffy answered him, glancing over her shoulder at him. He frowned and used his non-bloodied pinkies to grasp her head and face her forward again.

“I’ll need to stitch it up until your healing kicks in. This will sting.” His warning barely came a half-second before he cleaned the wound with an alcohol swab, and he had to grasp her shoulder as she flinched away from him.

“Giles!” She hissed accusingly.

“The dissolving stitches should do fine,” He ignored her ire, knowing it was only because she was in pain. “They’ll likely be out by mid-morning, or afternoon, tomorrow.”

“Healing?” Olivia tilted her head as she watched them closely. “So you have powers?”

“Some.” Buffy nodded. “I’m strong, and I’ve got some extra… baddie radar senses.” Olivia nodded slowly, staring at her in amazement. “But that still wouldn’t be much without Giles training me,” Buffy smiled a little out of fondness, wanting to show off her Watcher a little bit, “He’s taught me about what I am, what I fight, how to defeat them…”

“And you fight alongside her?” Olivia checked, wincing a little as she watched Giles expertly thread the stitching needle.

“Occasionally. Traditionally that isn’t the Watcher’s role, but I, uh…”

“We don’t tend to follow Council tradition, much,” Buffy smirked when he trailed off, and when he blushed, Olivia got a knowing look on her face.

“They don’t approve of your relationship.” She figured, and then snorted with amusement. “Still a bit of Ripper in there, then.” Her grin was a little too knowing for Buffy’s comfort.

“They don’t know, entirely, about our relationship.” Buffy clarified, and then hesitated. “I don’t think.”

“…And you get hurt often?” Olivia asked, obviously noting how familiar this bit of first-aid was between them.

“Usually just bumps and bruises,” Buffy caught herself before shrugging again, this time. “Sometimes a broken wrist or a cut that needs attention,” She tilted her head to the left, a gesture toward her back. “Giles tends toward head injuries mostly, which I’m not a fan of, so I’ve been trying to keep him on the books these days.”

He made a noise of displeasure at that, and she reached her hand back to rest it on his knee.

“Yeah, yeah - I’m not the boss of you, I shouldn’t let my feelings cloud my judgement - I know!” She’d heard all the fussy reminders before. But it was universally acknowledged that they both felt more confident about her patrolling when he was knowingly safe inside his apartment at night.

“How old were you when you realized… who you are?” Olivia wondered.

“Fifteen. Though apparently most Slayers before me were discovered by the Council years earlier and trained to be ready for the… jolt of puberty.”

“Buffy.” Giles sighed at her phrasing, but she couldn’t say anything immediately because he’d begun stitching her skin back together and she had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering at the sharp stinging sensation.

“ _Fifteen_?” Olivia exclaimed, and a sort of respect seemed to soften her eyes, though it was a sad look. “This is… scary.” She slowly shook her head as she took in this information and seemed to consider whatever else it was she already knew from living in London.

“Sometimes, yes, it’s scary.” Buffy admitted honestly, calmly. She’d accepted that this was her life, her duty. It certainly helped to have Giles at her side, and the Scoobies at her back.

They were silent for the next few minutes, Olivia mulling and Giles finishing with his patch-up job and Buffy relaxing beneath the healing and comforting touch of his hands. He’d taken to stroking the pads of his fingers up and down her spine, slow and leisurely, when Olivia eventually spoke again, fiddling with the strap of her purse,

“If it’s safe out there now, I think I should go.” She announced, getting to her feet.

“Safe? Sunnydale at night? I wouldn’t say that,” Buffy told her. “But the Gentlemen are gone.”

“I’ll give you a lift,” Giles offered, pulling his hand away from Buffy and letting her straighten her shirt back out.

“No, no - I’ll call myself a taxi,” Olivia immediately turned down his offer, which admittedly relieved Buffy and it probably looked obvious. Olivia looked disappointed, for a moment, but then went to Giles’ desk to use his phone.

Giles closed up the first-aid and returned it to the bathroom as Olivia spoke to the taxi company, and Buffy awkwardly fiddled with one of the pillows that had been on the couch. She wasn’t sure how she felt being alone with an old lover of Giles, even if that lover seemed to have at least some respect for her now. She couldn’t seem to get rid of the tiny bit of jealousy in the back of her mind, and she wondered if this was how Giles felt around Angel.

“I’ll be honest,” Olivia admitted, giving Giles - who had just returned from the hall - a small, sassy smile. “I’d hoped to sway you into my arms for a night… for old time’s sake.” Her expression then softened, became sincere, which was the only reason Buffy only frowned and didn’t forcefully remove her from the apartment. “But she’s special, isn’t she? Your Buffy.”

“She is.” Giles confirmed, soft but certain. Buffy wasn’t sure if it was more toward she being special, or she being _his_. She didn’t mind if it was both. She couldn’t help but smile with pleasure at his simple, straightforward response.

“I’ll tell the others back home you’re doing well.” Olivia told him softly, quirking a small smile, and Buffy knew she’d keep the whole Watcher/Slayer/monsters deal a secret.

“Call once you’re back at the hotel? So we know you’re safe.” Giles requested, and she nodded before quietly leaving without further ado.

Buffy and Giles both lingered where they were, standing at the couch and the hall entry respectively, quiet for a few moments.

“For old time’s sake?” Buffy couldn’t help but raise her eyebrow at Giles, and he removed his glasses, looking extremely tired.

“We were never… Olivia and I always had a rather casual relationship, Buffy.” He could clearly see her unsure feelings, in her posture and on her face, and he moved closer to look her in the eyes. “She was a good friend once, but our relationship was… simple. I still care for her because in my line of duty it isn’t easy to find or keep friends - but I never led her on in regard to anything beyond that now.”

“So… you had called her, before? Or did she just show up yesterday?” Buffy wondered.

“I had returned her call,” Giles nodded, but before Buffy could take that the wrong way again he quickly continued, “To inform her not to waste her time or money driving to Sunnydale, when what she was looking for... isn’t here.”

“Oh.” Buffy whispered again, less hurt and more just surprised. “Even when we were fighting, and not really talking…?”

“You’re the one I want. Always.” He assured her softly. “The one that I- I need. The one I… have…?”

She stared up at him in amazement, and he hesitated.

“Of course you have me, Giles. That’s never gonna be a question.” Buffy assured him earnestly. “I just… I wouldn’t blame you had you called her when you thought we… and that she just happened to show up after we’d made up,”

“No, Buffy, no.” He rested his hand on either side of her face and smiled warmly. “My love isn’t that fickle.”

“You thought mine was…” She mumbled, darting her eyes down though she couldn’t lower her head what with his grasp. From the way she acted sometimes in high school, she couldn’t blame him for that, either.

“Oh, Buffy, no,” He sighed, pulling her close and hugging her firmly against his chest, careful about the injury on her back. “That was all my own insecurities. You continued to remind me that you loved me; I never doubted that.”

She nestled within his embrace and relaxed against him, enjoying their closeness.

“Olivia and I talked it out, for a bit, and she decided to still come for a visit as a friend, to catch up.” Giles explained, resting his chin atop Buffy’s head.

“And to maybe sway you with her wily ways,” Buffy pointed out dryly, and he chuckled and squeezed her tighter for a second.

“It wouldn’t have worked, even had she tried. Buffy… even when you and I were at odds, I- I couldn’t eat… couldn’t sleep. Could hardly think of anything else aside from you.” Giles admitted quietly. “I’m so sorry, for how I -”

“Giles. We’ve forgiven each other, yeah?” Buffy interrupted him gently, and she felt him slowly nod. “Then it’s in the past. No more thinking about it, okay?” She leaned back to look him in the eye. “We move on. We be better.” She gave him a soft smile, and stretched up to kiss his cheek.

He smiled widely, obviously relieved, and Buffy relaxed and smiled as well. The warmth and adoration on his face filled her with a warmth as well, and a sense of pleasure she hadn’t really felt since… well, before her spooky Gentlemen nightmare, anyway.

“I didn't tell you all about the dream I had,” She remembered, and his brow twitched curiously.

“About the singing girl?”

“Before she showed up,” She smiled a little coyly, and after reading her features, his curiosity turned a little more coy as well.

“Oh?” He brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear before pulling away and heading over to lock the door. “Shall I get my journal then?”

“I don’t think you’ll want Xander stumbling upon these words… or Travers.” She smiled wider when both of his eyebrows went up, and he blushed a little.

“Buffy, were you having dirty dreams in the middle of class?” He lightly chided her, still going along with the flirting even though he was embarrassed.

“It’s psychology class! Can you blame me?” She protested, and he giggled. She grew more somber, though, as the mention reminded her of the t.a. “You were right about one thing, though… Riley isn’t just connected with the Initiative. He _is_ the Initiative.” Buffy informed her Watcher about the fight in more detail, perturbed. He grew more serious as well, and stepped closer to rest a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“We suspected this,” He reminded her softly when she’d finished, and she nodded slowly, still frowning.

“It’s just… seeing him fight against the Gentlemen’s Igor’s like that, it was… he was like a completely different person.” He wasn’t all mild-mannered, safe farm-boy after all.

“I’m sure he thought the same of you?” Giles pointed out, still speaking softly, and rubbed his thumb against the curve of her shoulder. “What did you tell him?”

“About being the Slayer? Nothing. We didn’t have our voices, remember?” She pointed out. “I guess we’re gonna have to have a talk soon, though. What do you think? Just stick with the basics?”

“Start there,” Giles agreed carefully, thinking it over. “See what kind of information we can trust him with, if any. He’s _seen_ you fight, so you’ll have to at least confirm your strength, and training. Make sure he knows what side you’re on, at the very least.”

She nodded, thinking again of the creepy skeletor faces surrounding her, trapped, with their inhuman smiles and their floatiness and their disturbingly nice suits. She shivered deeply, and pressed her face against Giles’ chest and moaned into his shirt.

“I’m gonna have nightmares about those guys for weeks.”

“Well… I shall do my utmost to put your mind on something different,” He hummed, stroking his hand through her hair and pressing a kiss just above her ear. “I am grateful the lad was there to help you. Perhaps we at least owe him a chance to explain his purpose within the Initiative.”

“You want my mind on Riley?” Buffy sassed, and he made a slightly growly noise under his breath.

“Certainly not. I’m simply saying - well, nothing that matters right now.” He lost his Watcher-tone again and murmured, “Stay here the night. Please. I- I would be much more happy ha-having you sleeping next to me.”

“Just sleeping?” Buffy wondered innocently, leaning back within his embrace to look up at him. He gave her a hooded look, and then kissed her deeply, until they were both a little out of breath.

“What do _you_ think?” He asked then, and she gripped the front of his shirt in her hands as she stepped backwards toward the stairs.

“I’m thinking I’m not going to be getting much sleep tonight either way, so I might as well be doing something productive with my time.” She informed him, repeating her mime of a stake, and he gave her a lopsided smile, his eyes twinkling with humor.

“Patrol? Again?” He wondered, mirroring her innocent tone from before, following her lead up to his bed. She smiled slowly, shivering a little with delight as she watched the way his eyes darkened in arousal.

“Staking vampires? Is that what you thought I meant?” She mused cheekily, and he made another, louder growling noise, burying his face into the crook of her neck as they stumbled together up the rest of the stairs. She was giggling before she could help it, all thoughts of scary monsters and nightmares far from her mind now.

“Perhaps I misunderstood. I may require a demonstration.” He murmured against her skin as he tucked his hands beneath her blouse and began pushing it up.

“A visual learner, are we?” They parted only enough for her to carefully lift her arms for him to remove her shirt completely, and then she could pull his henley off over his head as well.

“I am a _Watcher_.”

“Well, _Watcher_ ,” Buffy laughed again as they both lost their balance a bit trying to hastily tug off their own shoes. “Step on up to the front of the class, hope you don’t mind being my guinea pig,” She stepped away from him as she kicked off her jeans, hooking her finger at him, and his grin was dirty as he unbuttoned his trousers.

“It would be my pleasure.” He drawled, and she purposely let him see the way she checked him out as he undressed.

“Oh, it’s totally gonna be, Watcher-mine,” She breathed, losing a bit of her coyness with her anxiousness to have his skin against hers again. Without further ado she shucked off her panties and her bra, not taking her eyes off of him as she climbed into his bed.

“Buffy,” He groaned wantonly and seemed to forget about losing his briefs before joining her, crawling up her body and pressing her into the mattress as he kissed her as if they hadn’t kissed in months.

They both paused only when his phone rang downstairs some minutes later, hesitating over whether or not to answer it.

“Let the machine get it,” Buffy requested, nibbling along the curve of his ear until he trembled above her. “If it’s one of the Scoobies we’ll pick it up before they finish their message,”

“Probably Olivia, confirming she’s at the hotel,” Giles agreed, shifting to cover her mouth with his own again, brushing soft butterfly kisses against her lips as they tried to keep a small bit of focus on the phone.

As soon as Olivia’s calm tones assured them of her safety, both of them ignored the specifics of the message and went back to making out, Giles rolling them over so that Buffy was on top.

“Careful,” He panted, touching his fingers near her stitches, “don’t pull them.” Honestly, she’d forgotten about her wound for a moment, and was surprised they hadn’t aggravated it too terribly already.

“It’s harder to kiss you this way,” Buffy whined; he was too much taller than her for her to kiss him as deeply as she wanted while still feeling out the shape of his cock through his briefs. She'd probably still end up pulling her stitches, stretching her arm like that.

“Here,” He was smiling with amusement as he shifted up against his headboard, cushioning pillows behind him as he sat up and guided her hips down onto his lap. “How’s this?”

“Ohh, me likey,” Buffy approved, slowly peppering kisses against his lips as she rocked against the bulge of his briefs. His chest provided extra stimulation against her breasts and she pressed in closer, her bent knees tight against his hips. He really wasn’t exactly a small man, much as he made himself appear that way in his tweed suits and rumply sweaters. She liked the fact that her arms didn’t overlap too much when she wrapped them around him, or like now, when she was on top she still felt all tiny and girly in a really nice way.

Buffy ground her hips down hard as she danced her tongue against his, already so aroused that she could feel the way she dampened his briefs.

“Bloody hell, Buffy,” Giles complained, “let me take off my pants!” For a moment he still held her down and thrust up against her though, both of them making soft noises of pleasure. As much as she ached to have him inside her, the friction from his underwear was wonderfully distracting, and it took some mental fortitude to finally lift herself up far enough for him to hurriedly shove his briefs down his thighs.

When she reached back to help him move them further down his legs, he shook his head and planted her firmly against the length of his cock, guiding her to rub slickly along it. Both of them moaned in unison, equally loudly.

“They’re fine, now Buffy, please, now,” His skin was damp and flushed already, his erection full and hard and throbbing against her slit.

“You’re more impatient than I am,” Buffy laughed breathlessly, unable to tear her eyes away as she watched him take himself in hand after the next shift of her hips, stroking her arousal around himself before guiding into her as she carefully settled back over him.

Buffy moaned again immediately, feeling filled differently this way, almost even more so if that were possible.

“I’ve wanted you since training at the shop the other day,” Giles gasped out, between a few hums of approval as Buffy experimentally wriggled in his lap. She felt as if his girth was rubbing against all the good parts all at the same time, and she had to rest her forehead against his for a moment as she tried to gather her bearings. He thrust up a little bit beneath her, making her moan again, and she kissed him more slowly this time, trying to put most of her focus toward his lips and not the gentle rocking of their bodies.

Giles kissed like it was the best thing ever, even when his cock was getting attention, and that just amazed her. She bet she could come from his kisses alone, even if he avoided the more obvious sensitive areas on her body, and she wondered if it would be the same for him. She wanted to try that, some day.

But not tonight.

She squeezed around him as she arched her back, pressing against his pelvic bone and feeling bursts of pleasure throughout her whole body as a response. She rose up on her knees just a bit, as much as she dared, before slowly sliding back down. He groaned loudly, startling her from her curiosity at how he felt moving inside of her like this and turning her attention toward his face.

His head was tilted back against the headboard, the muscles in his neck tense, just like when she’d touched him in the car. Delighted by the openness of his pleasure, she repeated the action again, lifting up a little higher this time. He released a low noise that degraded even lower from his chest, and his fingers tightened around her hips.

“Ah, a little faster love… please…” He sounded almost delirious, and for a few moments Buffy was too busy being fascinated by him to focus on her own body. Her own orgasm built slowly and deeply, so much so that when she realized she was close to coming, she was surprised by it. “I’m nearly there,” Giles groaned in warning, and at that with her next breath she was coming, crying out in surprise as she arched tightly against him, her muscles trembling around him.

“Giles! Yes, yes,” She crooned into his ear and he gripped under her butt to keep her moving as he needed, until a few thrusts later he came hard, his hips bucking beneath her.

He grunted deeply and then gasped for breath, stroking one hand through her hair and the other carefully down the uninjured side of her back as they slumped like that against the headboard, both of them still trembling.

As fantastic as her orgasm had felt, she was still desperately aroused by him, and couldn’t help her little whimper of sadness when he eventually softened. He slid her butt down his thighs a little to fit his hand between them, then, and slowly dipped two fingers inside of the wetness between her legs, watching her face very closely. Her mouth fell open in surprise but then she closed her eyes, enjoying the weight of his fingers inside of her.

“Yes, please,” She encouraged him. His free hand cupped the back of her neck and he guided her to rest her forehead against his, again.

“Touch yourself,” He requested, his voice hoarse, and they both felt the responding way her muscles gripped his fingers.

Knowing which areas were overly-sensitive at the moment, she slowly maneuvered the pads of her fingers around his, along the outer skin of her folds and around her clit until she was soon coming again, drawing it out in a long moan that ended with a sated sigh. He didn’t pull his hand away until she’d moved hers, and gently massaged the nape of her neck with his other as she slowly came down.

Soon they were breathing together, like they did when they were meditating, and Buffy felt like she hadn’t come back into her own body yet.

“Told ya quickies would be good too,” She mumbled, rubbing her nose against his, and he chuckled softly.

“How’s your back?”

“M’wonderful.” She assured him. She had no idea; her fingers and toes still felt like they were tingling. He laughed again, and gingerly touched the stitches, feeling for blood.

“No blood, so that’s a good sign. You should probably sleep on your stomach, so you don’t aggravate it.”

She sighed, put-out, and tucked her arms beneath his around his waist, shifting her head from his to rest her cheek against his shoulder.

“Right here is good.”

“As much as my heart and mind agree with you, love, my body will not in the morning.” He informed her ruefully, and she sighed again, more loudly, before slithering off of him and onto her tummy on the mattress, head turned to face him. “I love you,” He said, and she pouted, though didn’t open her eyes, pretending to still be put-out. She heard him maneuver on the bed until he was lying on his side next to her, and then felt him warmly kiss the back of her shoulder, and she smiled.

“Love you more.” She blindly slid her hand over until she found his, and tangled their fingers together.

  
There was _no way_ she was gonna have any nightmares tonight.


	23. Chapter 22 (Something Blue)

Buffy opened her eyes to a bright, morning-lit bedroom, and for a moment she panicked before she remembered that today’s classes had been cancelled for a ‘study day’. Her professors had wanted the holiday break to start early just as much as the students had, something that amused her greatly. They weren’t _all_ so scary.

She stretched slowly, closing her eyes again and smiling as she breathed in deeply of the Giles-y smells on the pillowcases and in the room. A small shiver of arousal curled up her spine, and she huffed a soft laugh at herself. She slipped out of bed to tiptoe downstairs, snagging the button-up shirt that had been draped over the armchair by the window on the way.

He’d likely worn this one to work within the last day or so, and the scent of his aftershave on the collar only enticed her desire even further, and she bit her lip as she paused at the turn in the stairs to settle herself down a little.

Buffy heard him humming, then, from the kitchen, and she smiled widely as she snuck across the room to spy on him. She grew more delighted as she saw that he was wearing his robe, and quietly leaned her hip against the side of his desk as she watched him work at the counter, his back to her. There was something about the way the edges of his ruffled hair fell against his neck, a couple of inches above the loose collar of his robe… she wanted to kiss him there.

His soft humming gave way to lyrics, which Buffy was unable to continue resisting, and she moved closer into the kitchen.

“…So deep in my heart, that you’re really a part of me… I’ve got you, under my skin…”

It turned out he had been whipping up some scrambled eggs, and she leaned her shoulder against the fridge to watch him carry the bowl over to the warm pan on the stove and dump it in. He had a gentle smile on his face, and although he didn’t look away from what he was doing and acknowledge her presence, she could see the way his shoulders relaxed, and he went back to humming wordlessly for a moment.

It was only the combined growling of her stomach and the risk of burning breakfast that kept her from sidling any closer to him yet, and she contened herself with watching his profile as he jostled the pan on the burner.

The eggs cooked quickly, thank goodness, and he dumped them all onto a plate before turning the stove off and sliding the pan to a cool burner on the back. She was surprised to see him then immediately move the plate into the oven, though.

“But why should I try to resist, when baby I know darn well, that I’ve got you under my skin,” Giles sang softly, straightening as he closed the oven door and faced her. His eyes were dancing with a knowing look and he stepped closer to her, slowly checking out her attire. His tiny smile widened with pleasure, and she straightened as he neared. “Good morning, luv.” He paused only long enough to take in her warming smile, before sliding his hands over her waist and leaning in to kiss her.

She immediately draped her arms over his shoulders, trailing her nails against the back of his neck, and he kissed her a little harder for a second before suddenly picking her up and depositing her atop the counter. She blurted out an almost-giggle in surprise, and was more than a little pleased that his mind seemed to be on the same track as hers this morning.

She’d only buttoned up her borrowed shirt enough to be mildly decent, and he took the opportunity the height of her seat gave him to nuzzle his mouth against her neck and then kiss over her collarbone and between the opened edges of the shirt, down the center of her chest. His morning scruff was startlingly arousing against her skin, like she’d touched a live wire, and she moaned longingly before she could even return his greeting. She rubbed her hands down his shoulders for a moment, appreciating the sensual softness of his robe, loving the juxtaposition of that from the roughness of his jaw and chin.

He nuzzled the curve of her neck until she squirmed and gasped out a noise of want, and then tucked his fingers beneath the high hem of her shirt, trailing them up her thighs until he could press his thumbs against her hip bones. He leaned back so she could see his raised eyebrow, and she lifted her own in return.

“As if _you’re_ wearing any.” She pointed out, going for sassy, but her tone was too rough with desire. She tucked her fingers beneath the lapel of his collar, and then slid them slowly down until she reached the loosely tied sash at his waist.

He didn’t stop her, this time. She could feel his eyes watching her face as she focused on what she was doing, pulling the sash loose in an even slower gesture and watching the robe fall open against his hips.

She took a deep, slow breath inward as his stomach contracted slightly, and his cock twitched heavily. She could feel her nipples tighten as she slowly drew her eyes upward over his body, indulgently enjoying the solidness of his torso, the smattering of lightly colored chest hair, the peek of one of his own nipples, also hard.

She tilted forward and licked it, suddenly, and he yelped. As soon as she started to giggle however, he growled and tugged hard at her (his) shirt, ripping the two buttons she’d had closed and returning the tease - except instead of using his tongue, he rubbed his stubbly cheek against her breast, sliding his warm mouth over her nipple only briefly before nuzzling his scruff over it.

“Oh!” Buffy gasped aloud in surprise at the intense shock that shot through her like a rocket, slamming her hand against the side of the fridge in an effort to steady herself as her entire body jumped. A few magnets clattered to the floor, which neither of them noticed.

He gripped her waist tightly as he kissed his way back up to her mouth, tugging her further to the edge of the counter before guiding her thighs apart wide enough for him to shift forward between them. He slipped a hand between them to keep himself from pushing inside of her as they kissed for a while; almost lazily rubbing against each other as they made love with their mouths.

Buffy eventually pried her lips away from his, kissing across his jaw and down his neck as she dipped her hands beneath his robe and around his back. She felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t have him inside of her within the next minute, and she reached up as far as she could and trailed her nails all the way down his back, down and over the curve of his ass. He groaned and arched against her, the head of his cock finally brushing between her folds, and she quickly curled her legs beneath the drape of his robe as well and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him inside of her immediately and fully.

“Oh, hell,” He moaned shakily as her warmth engulfed him, his breath ruffling her hair as she kissed his chest. She rocked against him and hummed encouragingly as he hit that place inside of her that had been practically crying for attention.

“Please, Giles, please,” She begged against his skin as she continued to kiss him around her panting breaths, sliding her hands up to grip the back of his shoulders. In an attempt to sound less desperate, she swallowed and added, “Before breakfast gets cold.”

His chuckle sounded rather desperate as he began to thrust in and out of her steadily, and he replied breathlessly,

“The oven’s warm,”

Buffy leaned her upper body back slightly to give him a perplexed look, and he gave her a sheepish grin through his aroused flush.

“I’d planned on coming up stairs to, ehm,” He grunted in pleasure, “wake you up.”

“Well.” She mused, giving him a little impressed look even as she hummed out little happy noises every time he drove back into her. “Perks of having a planning man, huh?”

“Oh, I come with many perks,” He quipped, his breathlessness making him sound more cute to her than cocky, not that she minded. She laughed and pulled herself close again, tucking her face against his neck. His pulse was fluttering against her lips, and she kissed him there before biting him, mostly gently. “ _Fuck_ \- ” He barked out a hoarse curse in surprise, his hips slamming hard against hers, and she keened in approval.

“Yes,” She hissed, “like that, please,” She tilted her head back to catch her breath, and he in turn latched his mouth onto the crook of her neck, pressing his teeth against the muscle there as he began to fuck her hard.

Neither of them were quiet about it, between their noises of pleasure and the sound of their love-making. Buffy babbled noises of encouragement and approval at him, her nails digging into his shoulders, unable to help herself as he drove her higher and higher until they were both crying out their release.

She wrapped her arms around him as he half-slumped against her, sighing her name like he thought she was something miraculous. She didn’t have any breath left to say anything for a minute, and soothed her fingers through his hair as her pulse slowly began to settle.

This was quickly becoming one of her favorite places to be; their heaving chests pressing together, one of their faces tucked against the other’s neck or chest, arms and/or legs wrapped up together. The raw tenderness and the feeling of great trust that came with being naked together. Something even more primal, deep down, that she didn’t want to think about too hard; that he was _her Watcher_.

His cock was soft and he was kissing her gently again by the time her stomach eventually reminded her of how hungry she’d been earlier, and he chuckled at the growling noise as he straightened and stepped away enough to give her room to slide to her feet. He winced as he shifted his shoulders beneath the robe, and twisted to try and look at his shoulder as he pulled the collar away.

“C’mere,” Buffy frowned, having not yet moved from the counter, and reached for his sleeve to guide him to turn around and step back close again. She tugged his collar down his back and sucked in a small breath in surprise at the little nail marks in his skin. “Sorry,” She murmured sheepishly, gingerly sliding the pads of her fingers across the marks. At least she hadn’t made him bleed, but they probably did still sting a little bit. “I got a little over-enthusiastic I guess.”

She kissed his shoulder, sliding her mouth softly over each crescent moon shape until she’d covered them all, and heard him sigh softly.

“Never apologize for enthusiasm, Buffy,” He sounded both gently chiding and incredibly smug at the same time, which was certainly a feat. “In fact, the more the merrier, I’d say.”

“Cad,” She accused with a laugh, slapping the side of his arm, and he flinched and giggled. Before he could turn back around however, she took the rare opportunity to nuzzle the nape of his neck, and brush a couple of kisses there. Mmm, there was that Giles-y smell she loved; even better than just his aftershave.

Giles sighed again, a soft hum of pleasure, and relaxed into her touch. She slowly slid her hands across his shoulders and trailed her nails up the sides of his neck, behind his ears and into his hair. He shuddered and rested his hands atop her knees, shifting backward even closer until her legs were bracketing his hips again.

“Ah, that feels lovely.” He murmured, and she trailed her nails back down that path before repeating the motion. A rumbling noise seemed to emanate from his chest, and he began to rub his thumbs in little circles against her thighs.

She kissed his nape again, sliding her teeth against the bump of his spine as she rubbed her knuckle along the curve of his ear with one hand, slowly sliding her other hand down his back and around his side. She tucked her fingers beneath his open robe and trailed her nails through the lighter hair above his belly button, his tummy jumping against her palm as he giggled. She smiled against his nape but kept moving her fingers lower, lightly scratching his hip bone before running her finger down the crease of his thigh. His giggle quickly dissolved into that chesty noise again, and she looked over his shoulder and smiled to herself as she watched his cock begin to stir with interest again. She could have him hard again, soon, she was certain - 

But then her stomach sounded again, even louder than before. Buffy dropped her forehead onto the top of his shoulder, embarrassed again and sighing loudly in annoyance at herself. Giles chuckled quietly and kissed the side of her head before turning in her embrace and taking both her hands in his as he stepped away from her once more, this time using his grip to tug her off the counter and to her feet.

He then cradled her head in his hands and pressed a long warm kiss to her forehead, before shifting toward the oven and turning it off, tying closed his robe on the way. Buffy focused on rearranging her borrowed shirt to make herself a little more decent and avoid getting distracted by staring at him again. The buttons she managed to close were slightly offset, since he’d broken one and another was only hanging by a thread.

“Your shirt needs a bit of a tailor.” Buffy informed him wryly as she cleaned the counter, but he only smiled as he set the plate of eggs on the bar and fetched two forks.

“Somehow, I couldn’t care less.” He replied, and she smirked as well.

That sat next to one another at the bar counter as they shared the breakfast plate between them, and that’s where they still were, just finishing up, when the front door handle was suddenly violently jiggled. They shared a concerned look but before either of them could do anything else, the door burst open with a cracking splinter, and Faith burst into the room, followed by Wesley.

The other Slayer’s serious expression melted away as she noted Buffy and Giles staring back at her, perfectly safe. She looked confused, then, for just a second, and then her eyes flitted over their overly-comfortable attire and she smirked like a shark that had smelled blood.

“Hey Mulder and Scully,” She drawled, shaking the obvious ‘fight-mode’ tension from her shoulders and relaxing her hands by her sides. “What’d I miss?”

Behind her, Wesley stood silently, staring as if his brain wasn’t comprehending what he was looking at. Or, perhaps, didn’t want to.

The door slowly swung shut behind the newly arrived Watcher and Slayer, thunking against the broken frame without latching.

**... ... ...**

“ _You_ can be the one to explain to Xander how my _newly renovated_ door is broken, _again_.” Giles informed Faith after he’d returned back downstairs, dressed in his favorite corduroy trousers and a thin sweater.

“Hey, your door is _never_ locked! Wes told me to, anyway.” Faith defended herself, unbothered.

“I- I- I merely- ” As Wesley stammered to explain himself, Buffy meanwhile quickly threw on a snug black tank top and her comfy green hiking pants, brushing her fingers through her locks in hopes it didn’t look too much like I-just-had-sex hair.

Not that they could easily deny it, anyway. It had been pretty obvious the moment they’d all looked at each other after the abrupt entrance. Buffy grimaced for a moment, and then quietly took a deep breath. Wesley did already know, after all; had already seen them in a few of their stolen intimate moments. After the Ascension, however, he hadn’t brought it up again. Even over the summer, when Giles was talking about what a Watcher’s relationship to his Slayer _should_ be, Wesley never brought up the romantic aspects of _theirs_. And of course, Giles wasn’t going to.

Being pointedly reminded of it today no doubt made Wesley extremely uncomfortable.

“Whatcha get for not knocking first.” Buffy muttered to herself, before joining everyone downstairs. Giles was making tea, and Buffy spoke up before Faith could say or ask anything inappropriate, “So, what’s up? Why did you burst in here ready for a fight? We didn't even know you were in town.”

“Had a freaky dream.” Faith replied, dropping roughly onto the couch and stretching along it. “By the time we got here though, the town was already in lockdown.” Wesley lingered by Giles’ desk, eyeing the texts and notes neatly scattered atop without actually touching anything.

“About the Gentlemen.” Buffy realized. “Right. You had that one too, huh?” Then, she froze. “Not, uh, the _same_ dream, though? We didn’t like, _share_ the dream, did we?” Faith pushed herself up enough so Buffy could see her expression over the back of the couch; her eyebrow popped up and she had that shark-like grin on her face again.

“Why, Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes? Having dirty dreams?” Faith teased, and Buffy folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes.

“I’m just sayin’, what _I_ dream about is none of _your_ business.” She huffed, willing herself not to blush. Unless Wesley had told her, Faith hadn’t actually had any physical proof of Buffy and Giles being coupley. Not until now, anyway, and Buffy really didn’t want to give her any more ammunition.

“You’ve discovered what they are, then?” Wesley asked Giles, stepping over to the entrance of the kitchen to lean against the wall there. “These Gentlemen?”

He still sounded like Wesley, more or less, but there was something different about him as Buffy appraised him. She hadn’t seen either of them in a few months, since they’d left for L.A., and he’d seemed to… maybe come into himself more since then. Become more confident.

Buffy realized she was legitimately pleased by that thought. It looked like Giles’ training with him over the summer had led to some good improvements.

His attire had definitely improved, at any rate. He still wore the dorky glasses that Buffy thought made him look too young and ignorant, but he donned a brown leather coat over his collared shirt instead of the full ‘Council-Man’ get-up. Buffy raised her eyebrow as she looked back at Faith, who had seen her appraisal, and she pursed her lips as she nodded.

“Work in progress.” She replied, a proud look on her face.

Buffy glanced back toward Wesley in time to see him look down at the floor, and then flush oddly. He knelt to pick something up, and then awkwardly returned the magnets to the fridge. Realizing, Buffy pulled her lips between her teeth to keep from snorting in amusement at the look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something to Giles, but then closed it again before the older Watcher noticed.

“Yes. We’ve already dealt with them,” As Giles went into detail about the whole town losing their voices and the old fairy tale story of heart-stealing monsters, Faith hopped back up to her feet, bouncing on her toes anxiously.

“I was itchin’ for a fight.” She whined a little but then grinned, “Hey B, wanna spar? I’ve got a couple new moves to show ya.”

“Sure.” Buffy brightened; it was always nice having a sparring partner that could take more of her Slayer strength. Not that she really held back with Giles, either, but even with protective padding they could only train for so long before he was either winded or too sore to move. “Let’s go to the shop though. Not enough room here without moving furniture around.”

Giles grabbed his keys from the corner of the bar and tossed them into Buffy’s hands, pausing his conversation with Wesley long enough to remind her to lock up the training room once she was finished.

“Are you not going in today?” Buffy suddenly considered, and he shook his head.

“I called Anya earlier this morning and asked her to open for half the day today.” His eyes twinkled a little and Buffy blushed - he’d taken the day off to spend with her. Would he have stayed in that robe all day long? Damn Wesley and his interruptions… good intentions aside. “Speaking of,” Giles added just as Buffy opened the door, “Please make sure she isn’t harassing the customers too terribly.”

“Can do… Watcher-mine.” Buffy gave him a little look, one which he smiled shyly at and ducked his head to hide his expression from Wesley. Buffy grinned and strolled out of the broken door, ignoring Faith’s squinting eyes at the tone of her voice.

“You two are weird.” Faith commented, which Buffy ignored.

“How are the others? How is Cordelia? And… Angel?” After her summer cruise, Cordelia had informed them she was heading to L.A. to try to work on an acting career. Buffy knew that Angel, and Wes, would both be keeping an eye on her.

“Cor? Why you askin’ about her?” Faith wondered, oddly suspicious. Buffy raised her eyebrow.

“‘Cor’?” She repeated dubiously, with a snort. Then, an odd expression crossed Faith’s face, not the kind of expression Buffy would have normally associated with her. Nervous, almost worried. “I didn’t realize you two were friendly.” Buffy added more softly, careful of Faith’s defensiveness.

“Anyway,” Faith breezed, turning away to kick a rock down the sidewalk, averting her eyes without making it seem like the defensive maneuver Buffy knew it was. “She’s working for Angel, sort of. ‘Office Manager’ or whatever at his building when she’s not out at her auditions or acting classes or… whatever.”

“His building?” Buffy repeated in surprise. “Angel owns _a building_?”

“Old hotel, actually.” Faith replied casually. “ _Angel Investigations_ , he calls it.” She was the one who snorted in amusement, then. “Makes him sound like an asshole.” There was a fondness to her tone that at one point might have bothered Buffy, but only pleased her now.

She was glad that Faith seemed to be doing well. Even making friends - although those friends being mostly composed of an ancient vampire in a constant internal battle for his soul, and a Watcher that had once wanted her arrested and sentenced to something likely terrible, and - _apparently_ \- the socialite queen bee of their old high school, wasn’t exactly the best choice for a slightly erratic Slayer… Then again, Buffy had a witch, a werewolf, a vengeance demon, and the black sheep of the Watcher's Council in her life, so who was she to judge?

“Angel Investigations, huh?” Buffy mused over that, then drawled, “How Cary Grant of him.” Faith shrugged.

“Hey it’s weird, I’ll admit it, doing a lot of my work during the day now. Havin’ a whole cover story and everything. But I think… I think it’s helped, you know?” She glanced at Buffy, who tried not to look surprised at Faith’s candor, but didn’t succeed well by the scowl that Faith gave her. “I ain’t gone soft or anything,” She grumbled. “I’m just sayin’, no shortage of work for a Slayer in the big city.” Then she changed the subject, “How’s the Hellmouth then? Other than cavemen frat boys and the creepy skeleton-faces in suits.”

“Kind of quiet, lately,” Buffy admitted, showing her discomfort at that. “Mostly your usual vampires and demons.” Most of the drama in her life, lately, had been of the personal variety.

“Think something big is gearing up?” Faith asked knowingly.

“Maybe.” Buffy considered their mysterious military guys. “Have you ever heard of ‘The Initiative’?”

“Mm,” Faith thought aloud. “Nope.”

“Military types,” Buffy explained, “of some sort. Ever since around Halloween, I’ve been running into them off and on while I’m on patrol. I haven’t figured out where they’re based, yet, but they have some _serious_ gear. And Giles and Xander had heard something really worrying about Spike,”

“What’s more worrying than that the blood-sucker is still alive?” Faith grunted in annoyance.

“He’s been going around whining about being kidnapped, held in some kind of science facility, possibly underground.” Buffy frowned, trying to picture Riley as some sort of evil scientist. After having seen him fight against the Gentlemen, she was more convinced he was just the muscle. Now Professor Walsh - Buffy could see her as evil scientist material… though she didn’t exactly want to. Walsh was brilliant, and her class was actually really fascinating to Buffy. She’d hate for the one time she finally finds school interesting that it turns out to be the antithesis to her Slayer duty.

Antithesis - God, she was hanging out with Giles way too much.

“So what’s going on with you and the Watcher?” Faith asked, pulling Buffy back into focus.

“Huh?” She tried to recall what Faith had said before that question, and Faith rolled her eyes.

“You two all out in the open then, now?” She asked casually, and Buffy pursed her lips.

“We weren’t having sex, back then, you know.” She informed the other Slayer, who laughed.

“You wanted to.”

“I have a- a Slayer question,” Buffy wanted to divert the subject, especially since they were nearing the Magic Box and she didn’t want to hear _any_ of Anya’s opinions regarding her sex life… or sex in general. “When you’re training with Wesley- ”

“Wes and I aren’t groiny, no.” Faith snorted, and Buffy huffed as she opened the door and strolled into the shop.

“ _That’s not what I’m talking about_ ,” Buffy grumbled, glancing around for Anya and then nodding in greeting when she saw her helping a customer over by one of the bookshelves.

“Oh, it’s you.” Anya deflated, likely hoping for more customers. “Hello Faith.” She greeted Faith blithely and then continued to Buffy, “Giles isn’t here. I thought he took the day off to have orgasms with you, but since you’re here- ”

The customer she was helping startled a bit, and Buffy smiled nervously and dragged Faith toward the back room.

“Faith and Wesley are in town!” She interrupted the socially-unaware Anya with a too-bright smile on her face, “We’re just here to, um, find something for Wes. In the back.”

Faith was laughing as she stumbled behind Buffy into the training room, and Buffy scowled at her as she closed the door behind them.

“She’s starting to grow on me,” Faith quipped as she shrugged out of her jean jacket and kicked her boots off, tossing her socks on top of them.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Buffy huffed as she removed her shoes and socks as well, “I was just wondering, if you… I mean, you always seemed more in tune with the uh, the _Slayerness_ inside of you, and I wondered if… if you can notice a difference, after training.”

“A difference in what?” Faith frowned a little, not following, as she stretched out her shoulders and arms. “Like I said, Wes is a work in progress. He knows his stuff but he’s just a warm-up - if I want a real sparring challenge, I find Angel.”

“You guys have been working together for a while now… don’t you feel more, I don’t know, in tune?” Buffy asked as she began a more full-body stretch. She was surprised to find that her muscles were a little tight, and she tried not to grin with the knowledge why. Faith would be able to read it all over her face, she was sure.

“Look, B,” Faith sighed, obviously not wanting to get into anything too touchy-feely. “I’m sure there’s tons of old Watcher’s books that talk about their _‘bond’_ with their Slayer or whatever - I won’t lie and say Wes doesn’t provide _some_ improvement to my patrols… but we aren’t like you two. Not even before you got all drooly over each other.” She snorted, then, and shook her head. “ _Nobody’s_ like the two of you.”

Then, she bounced on her toes again, and gestured her hands toward Buffy.

“Can’t we do some real stretching, first?” Buffy requested lamely. “Some Tai Chi, to warm up.” Faith groaned heavily, dropping her hands to her side and giving Buffy a sideways look as she did reluctantly move into position.

“The librarian wear you out, huh?” She smirked, impressed. “I always bet he was a real freak in the sheets.”

“Shut up.” Buffy grumbled, closing her eyes to focus on her movements, studiously ignoring the heat she could feel in her cheeks.

**— — —**

“Hey, Will,” Buffy greeted her roommate, who was already in her pajamas and lying in her bed, though all the lights were still on. “I asked Giles about having a Scooby Thanksgiving at his place - it took some persuading, but he gave in. We’ll have some last-minute shopping to do, but I think it’ll be alright. We’ve got a turkey at Mom’s that she won’t need now that she’s going to Aunt Darlene’s.”

“Oh, good…” Willow’s response was half-hearted at best, and Buffy hesitated after she set her purse beside her desk, slowly sitting on the edge of her bed as she took a closer look at Willow. She’d been crying, very recently.

“What’s wrong?” Buffy worried, alarmed. “Was it a vampire? Is Xander…?”

“Xander’s fine,” Willow smiled ruefully, probably at the fact because Buffy had immediately jumped toward Hellmouthy problems. “It’s…” She pulled in a shaky breath, and then said almost tonelessly, “Oz isn’t coming.”

“Not coming?” Buffy repeated, frowning, wrong-footed. “Why? I thought- I thought you said he was doing better, and he seemed excited about a Scooby holiday- ”

“I might’ve lied a little bit,” Willow admitted, her voice immediately sounding shaky again. “When I said he called the other day… I- he hadn’t, I just- I just wished he had.” She trailed off, a fresh tear coursing down her cheek, and Buffy leaned forward a little, hurting for her friend.

“When did he last call, Will?” Buffy asked softly.

“Last week.” Willow sniffed, and sounded stronger for a moment. “And he really did sound like he was doing better. He just… he’d said he wasn’t going to make it back for the break. I thought- I thought maybe he’d change his mind as it got closer but- but,” Her voice broke and dissolved into more tears, “Devon said that he sent for his stuff. His room was all empty.”

Buffy hadn’t even realized that Willow had been going over to the house, and she felt horrible for not paying closer attention to her friend.

“He’s not planning on- on coming back anytime soon,” Willow’s brow furrowed painfully. “I feel like I’ve been split down the center and half of me is lost.” She admitted through her tears, and Buffy immediately crawled into the bed beside her and drew her against her chest, stroking her hair.

“I know.” Buffy murmured empathetically. She was all too familiar with that feeling, and she never would have wished it on one of her friends. “…It feels like that now… but I swear, Willow, I swear, it won’t forever. He still loves you.”

Willow’s emotions overwhelmed her and she sobbed, curling tighter against Buffy’s side.

“You’re gonna have to give him time, Will…” Buffy advised softly after a few moments. “This isn’t just some soul journey of emotions. He’s tryna figure out his _humanity_.” Buffy felt for him, there. She’d been there too, in a way. She could feel for both their sides.

Willow quietly acknowledged that gentle reminder, and sounded ashamed as she murmured,

“I just can’t stand feeling this way. I want it to be over. The missing him. I just want him to come back - I still love him, exactly the way he is.”

“The pain will pass, I promise.” Buffy assured her. “But… this is just how it is. You have to go through it - there’s no magical pill that suddenly makes long-distance relationships easier. It takes work, and- and yeah, it sometimes hurts.” Buffy began to stroke her hair again. “But you can’t ignore the pain, or hide it, Willow. That gives it power it shouldn’t have. Power to stay longer than it needs to. Don’t let the pain control you, Will… have power over it.”

Her crying soon softened to sniffles, but Buffy stayed right where she was, prepared to hold her all night if she needed her to.

“How- how do you and Giles do it? I mean, you’ve hurt one another before, but you’re still… Oz has never hurt me before. Not even wolfy-Oz, not really.” Willow’s question was genuinely innocent, but Buffy still winced anyway.

“Yeah, we’ve hurt one another…” Buffy admitted slowly. “And I know I won’t always succeed in not hurting him in the future… it seems like Giles and I have a particular talent in needling one another. But it’s never out of spite. Never out of hate. And Oz certainly doesn’t hate you, Will. He doesn’t have a spiteful bone in his body. Even when he’s pissed off, he’s noble.”

“Yeah…” Willow sounded almost pleased for a moment.

“Me and Giles, we’ve taken some learning. I try not to run off in a huff, just as he’s learned not to internalize everything. We tell each other when we’re hurt, and why, and we talk it out. Sometimes it’s awkward and it sucks but - afterwards? Oh, Willow, if it was even possible to love him even more, than I would. We understand what hurts each other, so we hurt each other less and less.” She paused for a moment, but she couldn’t think of anything new to advise her friend beyond what she’d already told her. “Give him a little time, he may need it. But the next time you talk, be honest with him Will. About how you feel and how he’s made you feel. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know is wrong.”

Willow nodded quietly, and they lay there for a few moments in silence before she wondered,

“Is that how you and Giles are now? Emotional Marathon Man and Represso Girl are no more?” Her tone was light, teasing, and Buffy chuckled quietly.

“We’re trying, at least in regards to one another. I just feel…” Buffy stopped herself, blushing a little in consternation. Now was so not the time to get swoony over her own boyfriend when she was supposed to be comforting Willow.

“It’s okay,” Willow seemed to know, “you can tell me. I like hearing you talk about Giles.” Buffy was still blushing, for different reasons now.

“I feel closer to him than I’ve ever felt for anyone. Closer than I ever thought was really possible with another human being.” Buffy admitted quietly.

“I’m really happy for you, Buff. Really.” Willow’s smile up at her was genuine, though through drying tears. “I’ve never seen you this happy before. At peace, I mean.”

Buffy gave her a tiny smile, and kissed the side of her head before pulling her close in her arms again and tucking her chin over her head.

“You’ll feel that way too, again. I promise.”

“I’m just feeling further and further apart from Oz…” Willow sniffled softly, and Buffy lovingly soothed her fingers through her best friend’s hair.

“I know.” She whispered.

**— — —**

They decided to have a Scooby get-together at the Bronze the following evening, in an effort to distract Willow from her blues. When she slipped away to the restroom, Xander leaned in closer to Buffy.

“Geez. You mean Oz just sent for his stuff and didn’t even call her? That’s pretty harsh.” Xander sounded like he didn’t half believe it, which Buffy understood. Oz usually wasn’t so uncaring about his friends’ feelings - especially when it came to Willow.

“I only wish I had my powers back,” Anya piped in, “I’d liquefy his entrails for her.” Buffy grimaced a little at the mental image.

“That’s… sweet.” Xander patted his girlfriend’s hand. “God… poor Will. No wonder she’s- ” Xander paused as he looked in the direction where Willow had disappeared, only to find her within the crowd, dancing. “Having a wonderful time?”

“Wow.” Buffy mused, eyeing her friend warily. “Way to rebound.” She didn’t seem very Willow-like, dancing so casually with a bunch of strangers, but Buffy knew that heartbreak did weird things to a person sometimes.

“I believe that’s the dance of a brave little toaster.” Xander commented, sounding just as unsettled. Willow noticed them watching her, then, and waved goodbye to her dance-mates before bounding back to the table.

“Hey guys, come on, this music’s great!” Willow gestured for them to join her. Buffy never took her for a Blink-182 fan.

“It’s nice to see you brought your boogie shoes tonight, Will.” Xander noted.

“Yeah. You know, I know I’ve been sort of a party poop lately, so I said to myself, ‘Self’, I said, ‘It’s time to shake and shimmy it off’.” Willow replied, grinning, and Buffy smiled back though her eyes were still narrowed as she watched her closely.

“Sounds like a good policy.” To their knowledge, Willow had only been down in the dumps last night and today - she’d been hiding her real feelings, otherwise. This seemed a bit of a… quick turn-around of emotions, especially for the team member who was usually the most open about her emotions.

“Yeah, and it works, too. Yeah, I just figure, in the grand scheme of things we’re all just- ” She stopped talking when a glass bottle clinked against the floor at her feet, and all three of the others leaned over to look at it.

“Drunk?” Buffy raised her eyebrow as she noted the beer foaming out on the floor.

“Pff,” Willow scoffed as she picked up the bottle. “Drunk. I mean, that’s… that’s such a- a strong word… kind of a guttural anglo-saxon word. ‘Drunk’.”

“Will, not loving the drowning of the sorrows.” Xander’s tone was still light, but his expression was more serious.

“Not drowning. Waiting.” Willow insisted innocently. “A-a-and, see?” She pointed at the label on the bottle. “Light. No big.”

“No big?” Buffy repeated. “Anybody remember when Buffy had the fun beerfest and went ‘One Million Years B.C.’?”

“Bet Giles remembers.” Xander snorted, and Buffy frowned but before she could defend against that comment, Anya touched his elbow, wryly pointing out,

“Off topic, Xander.”

“Right.” He gave Buffy a sheepish look. “Helping now.” Then he stood and approached Willow. “Will, how about you give me that beer?”

“No, why should I?” Willow whined, clutching the bottle against her chest. “I’ve got pain, here. Big-time legitimate pain.”

“We all have pain, Will.” Xander pointed out, not unkindly.

“Like what? ‘Oh, poor me, I live in a basement.’ Yeah, that’s dire.” Willow scoffed again. Buffy hopped to her feet as Xander stood there for a moment, and then shook his head and walked away, clearly hurt by her drunken comment.

“Okay, you know what? That’s it. I’m taking you home.” Buffy picked up Willow’s coat and reached for her arm, but Willow shrugged away her grasp.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Well, you’ll thank me when you still have a _friend_ in the morning.” Buffy pointed out firmly, and Willow finally seemed to consider what she was doing.

“He hasn’t called in a week and he took his stuff with no warning.” Willow mumbled sadly, and Buffy gently pried the bottle out of her more willing hands. “We were s’posed to have a Scooby holiday. I don’t even _like_ Thanksgiving.” She pouted.

“We still will.” Buffy promised her, glancing toward the other two still hovering by the table. Anya looked dubious, but Xander’s expression softened and he nodded.

“Of course we’ll still have our Scooby day.” He assured Willow softly. She gave him a bit of an apologetic look, and then looked at her feet.

“C’mon, Will.” Buffy took her arm more gently this time, and led her out of the Bronze. A waitress shifted by near them as they left, and Buffy took the opportunity to put the bottle on the tray she was carrying.

**... ... ...**

Buffy brought Willow along with her to Giles’ the next morning, not entirely comfortable leaving her alone. She didn’t want Giles to get fussy either, though, so she covered for Will’s hangover, explaining it away as a late night studying for the impending finals.

Willow rested on the couch while Giles and Wesley ‘debated’ - more like argued, in Buffy’s point of view - about various tactics for working in L.A. and more out in the open as they were. She’d thought Willow was asleep, until the topic of magicks came up, and she sat upward immediately, her expression alight with interest.

“Magic?” She piped up eagerly, startling the two men into silence. “I could help. Well, maybe I could help.” She trailed off, talking to herself almost, “I’m a little off I think. I tried to do a spell last night, hoping it would make me feel better, but it just went kablooey.”

Giles’ eyes widened as he stared at her, appalled, and then he slowly turned his gaze toward Buffy. She widened her eyes as well, in innocence, and shook her head. Willow must’ve done this after she’d gone to bed; she had no idea about it. Wesley frowned and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before pulling his glasses off of his eyes and cleaning them worriedly.

“You’ve done a spell?” Giles asked her. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be doing that alone right now. Your energy’s too unfocused.”

“Well that’s not true,” Willow pouted, hurt by his reprimand, gentle as it was. “I said- I said I was off, not _incompetent_.”

“I only meant that you’re, um, grieving, and- and- it might be wise if you took a break from doing spells without supervision.” Giles pointed out. Willow’s brow furrowed, and Buffy tensed, expecting something of a repeat of last night.

“But the beer didn’t work so -”

“ _Beer_?” Giles exclaimed.

“Alcohol _and_ magic?” Wesley shoved his glasses back on his face and gave Giles a scolding look that brought Buffy right back into the high school library again. “I agreed not to mention Willow to the Council because you assured that you could control her -”

“ _Control me_?” Willow exclaimed, looked at Giles as if he’d betrayed her, and he groaned in annoyance as he glared at Wesley briefly before focusing back toward Willow,

“That is _not_ what I said,” Giles insisted seriously, removing his own glasses in frustration. “I said exactly what I’d told you, and that was that I would _help_ you, guide you until I could put you in touch with my friends in Devon.”

“Which you have.” Willow was still frowning, but now toward Wesley, and seemed quickly on Giles’ side once more. “I have nothing to do with the Council. I’m not a Slayer.”

“You’re a part of this team,” Wesley pointed out with pursed lips. “Besides the fact you’ve been performing intermediary level spells since you were _underage_.”

“You’re a powerful witch, Will.” Buffy grinned a little, nudging Willow with her elbow. She looked pleased, for a moment, but then pouted again.

“No I’m not,” She mumbled, “couldn’t even do an ‘I will it’ spell right.”

“And none of that is to mention you’re living on top of _the Hellmouth_.” Wesley continued, speaking over her. “This is all a recipe for disaster and _you_ -” Wesley pointed at Giles, who looked affronted now. “This is all already bad enough optics for you - you’re _flaunting_ your relationship with your Slayer now? Are you mad? I agreed to keep your secret because _you_ agreed it wouldn’t become a problem!” Wesley gave them both an incredulous look. “What in the world happened since the summer?!”

Buffy returned his incredulous look, wondering the same thing.

“Hey!” Willow huffed, coming to their defense, to Buffy’s surprise - and by Giles’ expression, his too. “Buffy and Giles are like, the least problematic couple here right now!” Then she muttered under her breath, “Which is saying something, I suppose,” Before continuing to yell at Wesley, “Xander’s some kind of demon magnet, and I’m a witch dating a werewolf! All _they_ wanna do is have some smoochies! What’s so wrong with that?! Maybe you’ve been gone for too long, Wesley, because you’re standing there talking about optics but you’re not seeing anything!”

“I- ” Wesley frowned, and put his glasses back on. “I’m simply saying- ” He paused and squinted, taking his glasses back off. “Out of all the people- … Mr. Giles should _know better_ to allow you to- ” Wesley huffed, squinting through his lenses without actually putting them back on.

“I’m a grown woman, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce,” Willow huffed determinedly, impressing Buffy. “ _Giles_ is my _friend_ , not my _master_. And anyway, if we’re gonna be pointing fingers at stupid choices, how about _you_ ‘Mr. I’m Working For A Vampire Who Could Go End-Of-The-World-Evil If He Even Smiles’? Even Buffy didn’t work with Angel as often as you guys are!”

“To be fair,” Buffy piped up, “a part of that was specifically to keep him from… um… smiling.” She trailed off, and glanced toward Giles. She felt a sort of tug in her chest, then, and she blinked.

A familiar feeling, but the timing was not very ideal.

“Buffy is not a stupid choice,” Giles glowered, “she is- ” He stopped talking too, as he met Buffy’s eyes across the room. Buffy felt her mouth go dry and her heart speed up - as if she was in the library again and was supposed to be hiding her crush on her Watcher.

“I didn’t mean that,” Willow sighed tiredly, “Of course I don’t think that.”

“I- can we- ” Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. “Can we table this discussion, please? I rather find a migraine coming on, I think.”

“I- ” Giles blinked at Buffy, the heat in his eyes surprising her, but then he turned toward the bathroom. “I have some medicine in the cabinet.”

“Maybe if you’d pull that Council stick all the way out of your ass,” Buffy mumbled her unfinished statement under her breath. She knew their burgeoning ‘friendship’ with the younger Watcher was tenuous, but she didn’t think it’d been _that_ rocky. Maybe the Council had got to him while he was in L.A., brainwashed him again to their ancient out-dated ways.

Wesley didn’t respond to her sass, though, which she did find a little worrying. She shoved her annoyance at him and her desire for Giles into the back of her mind, and looked closer at Wesley. He really looked like he might be in pain.

“Hey, Wes, maybe take a seat,” She suggested hesitantly, and she and Willow both moved out of the way as he shuffled toward the couch, flopping down onto it and tossing his glasses onto the coffee table as he leaned his head against the back cushion. Buffy glanced toward Willow with concern, but Willow was too busy giving Wesley a curious look.

“Buffy, darling, could you get a glass of water for Wesley?” Giles requested as he returned to the living room with a couple of tablets in his palm.

“Sure,” She grinned at the pet name and trailed her hand along her lover’s arm as they passed one another. Giles gave her a little smile before he handed the pain medicine to Wesley.

“Have you been in any fights, recently? Head injuries?”

“No, no,” Wesley replied, pinching his eyes closed against the lights in the room. “Just a bit of a migraine. I get them from time to time, though usually only after long hours of study…”

“Here you go, Wes,” Buffy returned to Giles’ side, holding onto the glass as Wesley fumbled for it for a moment, until she was sure he had it firmly. “Your coordination isn’t so great.” She noted, leaning into Giles when he wrapped his arm across her shoulders.

“My eyes are a little blurry.” Wesley admitted. “Just a side-effect, I’m sure. I’ll take these and be right as rain.” He winced heavily, however, before tossing the pills into his mouth and swallowing down half the glass of water.

Buffy watched his sudden change in demeanor worriedly, taking Giles’ left hand in her own where it draped over her shoulder.

“You didn’t give yourself a coronary or anything, did you?” Buffy checked, turning her head a little to brush her mouth against the back of Giles’ hand.

“No, no- ” Wesley sighed in annoyance, and draped his arm across his eyes. “Just give me a few minutes, will you? And then we can get back to our conversation.”

Giles made a scoffing noise under his breath, rolling his eyes before pressing a kiss against Buffy’s hair. She thought it was just going to be a chaste gesture, but then he nuzzled his nose against her ear, and she shivered.

“I’ll make some tea, perhaps keep this civil.” Giles murmured, and Buffy nodded, watching him walk into the kitchen. Gosh, he had a lovely butt. She wanted to follow him into the other room and give him a kiss and maybe tuck her hand into his trouser pocket and make him squirm.

“Buff,” Willow whispered, smiling a little in amusement, “Maybe take it a little easy on Wesley? You don’t need to rub it in.”

“What?” Buffy wondered, not following.

“You’re drooling,” Willow giggled a little, and Buffy immediately averted her focus back toward Wesley, mildly chagrined.

“How are Giles and I causing a problem?” Buffy demanded of Wesley, and he groaned quietly.

“There are certain people within the Council that never liked that Mr. Giles has stayed behind with you. They don’t like that he’s still here. His mind is a talent many feel better used at headquarters in London.”

“Yeah, well, Giles isn’t just a brain you know.” Buffy huffed in frustration, giving in and stalking toward the kitchen. Talking about the Council was just going to piss her off more.

“I’m not just a textbook with arms?” Giles teased hopefully, and Buffy did give his rear a light swat as she reached into the cabinet next to him for the tea tray.

“Nope, you’ve got legs and a butt too. A nice one,” She teased back, and he glared briefly in indignation before he realized no one had noticed her gesture or heard what she’d said. “And nice shoulders… and nice lips…”

Before she knew it, they were kissing, gently enough that they didn’t draw attention, and Buffy felt like melting against him as he moved his lips against hers in an achingly soft gesture. It wasn’t just the lustful pleasure of the thing, with him. She could feel how much he loved her, how much he deeply, passionately, _loved_ her, just in his kiss.

His fingers drifted across the back of her neck and she sighed, resting her hands against his stomach, feeling him breathe.

“Yo, _guys_.” Willow’s voice startled Buffy into awareness of the rest of the world, and she realized the water was boiling and the kettle whistling angrily.

“Oh.” Giles said somewhat dumbly, staring at the stove for a moment before turning off the burner and moving the kettle to a cool one. Once it had settled somewhat he poured the hot water into the teapot for the leaves to steep, and Buffy meanwhile finished gathering together enough cups for all of them.

“Did you even hear that? Or me?” Willow asked, and Buffy blushed slightly. Giles hid his embarrassment by digging through one of the upper cabinets for the box of his favorite biscuits he kept hidden from Xander. “I think…” Willow realized slowly, her amusement drifting into discomfort. “I think you were right, Buffy…”

“Hmm?” Buffy realized she was distractingly touching her bottom lip, and she stuffed her hand into her pocket as she straightened out all the cups with her other hand.

“About me being a powerful witch.” Willow whispered very carefully, and both Buffy and Giles paused what they were doing, before slowly turning to face their friend. She gave them a deeply apologetic look. “I told Wesley he wasn’t seeing anything, and now he can’t see anything.”

“He has a migraine, Willow.” Giles soothed her gently. “That’s not your fault.”

“He just needs to unclench a little.” Buffy quipped.

“My hearing is just fine, you know!” Wesley grouched from the living room.

As they all gathered back in the living room again however, awkwardly waiting out the medicine to work for Wesley, it eventually became apparent that there was something other than a migraine going on.

“I’m not in _pain_ any longer, I’m just blind! Completely, bloody blind!” Wesley reached for his cup of tea in frustration, and only succeeded in knocking it off the table and onto the floor.

“Willow, what was it you said you did last night?” Giles asked as he picked up the miraculously unbroken mug and Buffy hurried to the kitchen for a rag to sop up the liquid.

“A ‘my will be done’ spell.” She answered truthfully. “I didn’t think it worked, since I couldn’t even unbend a q-tip… but I guess I didn’t mean it enough?” She winced and gave Wesley a deeply apologetic look that he couldn’t see. “I’m so sorry, Wesley.”

“There’s some kind of counter-spell, right?” Buffy asked both Willow and Giles, sitting on the arm of his chair once they were finished cleaning up Wesley’s mess.

“I believe a general cancellation spell should work,” Giles mused thoughtfully, and Willow nodded and hopped to her feet, eager to fix her mistake.

“I’ll run back to the dorm and get my book and whatever ingredients I need.”

“We’ll keep an eye on Wes.” Buffy promised, though she gave Giles a grin and slipped from her perch on the arm into his lap as Willow grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

“Perhaps you should just lie back and relax, Wesley, until Willow comes back?” Giles suggested, and the younger Watcher groaned in frustration but stretched out along the couch anyway.

Buffy trailed her finger along the curve of Giles’ ear until he looked at her, and then smiled and lightly pecked a kiss against his lips. He smiled back, and quietly slipped his arms around her to kiss her more deeply.

**... ... ...**

“So the plan is to cure my total incapacitating blindness tomorrow, is it?” Wesley griped as Buffy and Giles cuddled together on the reading chair, nuzzling and giggling softly together.

“Willow’s gone to get the taggis root from the magic shop,” Buffy reminded him distractedly, brushing her fingers through Giles’ hair above his ear. “Your hair’s getting lighter here,” She mused. “Makes you look very distinguished.”

“‘Distinguished’ is just another word for ‘old’.” Giles fussed, frowning, but she only smiled as she smoothed her fingers over his brow.

“And ‘old’ is just another word for ‘experienced’,” Buffy teased, brushing her mouth over his.

“Platitudes.” He was still fussy, but not quite as frowny.

“A master at his craft,” Buffy purred, gently mouthing his upper lip.

“Oh?” His arms tightened around her and she could feel him smiling against her now. “And what is that?” He murmured between their kisses.

In answer, Buffy urged his lips apart and kissed him deeply, quickly letting him take control of the kiss and humming happily as he slid his hand into her hair to hold her close.

“Stop that right now!” Wesley demanded, “I can hear the smacking!”

Buffy sighed as Giles compromised and slid his mouth against her cheek, and she wondered when Willow would come back. She hadn’t been keeping track of the time, way too distracted by Giles’ lips, but it did feel like she’d been gone for longer than expected.

“Board up the windows!” Xander shouted as he and Anya burst into the apartment. “Barricade the doors!” They shifted the heavy coat rack in front of the door as Buffy and Giles startled apart, scrambling to their feet and moving around the end of the couch.

“What’s going on?” Wesley wondered, sitting up slightly.

“Demons,” Anya answered, short of breath. “They keep coming and coming.”

“I think we lost them, but I couldn’t see,” Xander added as they moved to meet the other two in the middle of the room.

“ _You_ couldn’t see.” Wesley muttered under his breath, and Xander and Anya gave him equally odd looks.

“What’s wrong with him?” Xander wondered, noticing how Wesley’s focus seemed pointed more toward the hallway than on them directly.

“He’s blind.” Buffy replied calmly, rubbing her hand down Giles’ arm as if he were the blind one that needed comforting.

“He’s _blind_?” Anya repeated, stepping closer to the back of the couch, and Xander followed her and waved his fingers in front of Wesley’s face.

“ _Stop_ … whatever you’re doing. You- you smell like fruit roll-ups…” Wesley whined.

“I don’t know what it is about this sweater…” Buffy mused as she slowly slid her hands up Giles’ chest, curling her fingers over his shoulders, her attention distracted from the others once again. “It makes me wanna climb you like a tree.”

“Well,” Giles grinned a very boyish, coy expression, and then hoisted Buffy up and turned to press her back against the wall by the kitchen entry, guiding her legs around his waist and holding her there. “Allow me to assist,” He drawled against her lips, both of them smiling before they kissed fervently.

She hummed, overjoyed, and slid one of her hands through his hair, wrapping her other arm across the width of his shoulders and gripping on tight as she locked her ankles together against his back.

“Um, can I be blind, too?” Xander pleaded the room, as Anya gave them a briefly impressed look before even she half-turned away, uncomfortable with the display of affection.

Giles chuckled a low, sensual kind of laugh, and Xander turned red.

“And deaf, too?” Anya hoped.

“W-Willow should be back, soon,” Wesley assured them, laying back down on the couch and covering his eyes with the warm washcloth again. “She-She’ll fix this with a counter-spell, and all will be well.”

“A counter-spell?” Xander repeated, and looked toward Buffy and Giles with alarm before quickly yanking his head in another direction, wincing. “This is a spell?” He sounded hesitantly relieved.

“How much of this is a spell?” Anya wondered, glancing in the general direction of the couple making-out heavily against the wall, without actually making the same mistake Xander had and looking at them directly.

“Hmm?” Buffy managed to pry her lips away from Giles for a moment, and he nuzzled her cheek while she spoke to the others, “Oh, Willow basically told Wesley he was blind and she called you a demon magnet, so…” Just then, something heavy slammed against Giles’ front door, and he scowled.

“Perhaps we should take this elsewhere? My homeowners insurance can only cover so much within a month.” He snarked.

“You’re kicking me out?!” Xander squeaked, and Buffy put her hand against Giles’ chest and wriggled until he stepped away from the wall and let her slide back to her feet.

“No, Xander, we’re not kicking you out.” Buffy gave Giles a dirty look, and he looked sheepish.

“Can we at least take the fight outside?” He half-whined, and Buffy nodded, heading for the weapon’s chest in the corner.

“Everybody grab a sword. Uh, except you Wes. You just, uh, stay there.” Buffy ordered, and he flopped back down flat on the couch.

“Gladly.” He grumbled.

When they rushed as a group out the door, it was to find the demons already engaged in a fight, with Faith.

“What-! The hell! …Is going on?!” Faith demanded between ducking a punch and throwing a kick, sending one of the demons sprawling up the steps and out onto the sidewalk.

“Willow turned Xander into a demon magnet!” Anya explained as she and Xander fought together against one of the other demons. “Another Serparvo demon!”

“Oh!” They quickly struggled with their demon toward the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, where they both threw themselves across its back and forced it under the water.

“Buffy, weak kidneys!” Anya managed to call out as she almost lost her grip. “Beheading!”

Buffy was really starting to like having her on the team. She sucker-punched the big-horned thing in front of her and as it doubled over in pain, swiped her sword up in a two-handed grip through its neck, taking its head off cleanly.

“Excellent!” Giles praised, while also looking a little too delighted to be trading punches with something that had tiny little horns all over its head. When he tried to cut through its neck with his own sword, the blade lodged into some kind of tough outer shell, and Giles’ grin quickly fell.

“The _eyes_ , Giles, don’t you know a - ” Whatever Anya said it was, Buffy couldn’t begin to understand the pronunciation herself, besides that she was too busy being concerned when Giles struggled to remove the blade from the demon’s neck and it backhanded him across his chest, sending him sprawling into a planter.

“Hey!” Buffy growled as it wrenched the sword free and tossed it to the ground as well. She leapt at it as it faced her more fully, burying her sword through its eye without hesitation, landing on her feet as she followed it to the ground. The remaining demon was being taken care of by Faith, so Buffy turned to her Watcher. “Giles!” She slid to the ground beside him, brushing dirt and bits of broken ceramic off his chest as he slowly sat up.

“Ow.” He winced, pressing his hand against the back of his head, and Buffy gingerly combed some of the dirt and bits of flower out of his hair, also checking for blood.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and he looked at her for a moment, and then suddenly they were kissing madly, holding onto one another for dear life. Giles drew her closer as she shifted to straddle his legs, aching to be as close to him as possible as he worked his tongue inside her mouth.

“There’s more coming,” Xander moaned with concern, as heavy shuffling feet and growling noises could be heard coming nearer from the street.

“Time and place, B! Come on!” Faith complained, but Buffy ignored her, only distantly concerned about whatever else was going on. This was right where she wanted to be, more than anything in the world… her happy place… kissing Giles.

“Let the healing power begin!” Willow’s voice drifted across the courtyard, appearing out of nowhere. “Let my will be safe again. As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken!” Her words were accompanied by a loud shock of thunder and flashes of lightning, and Buffy managed to pry her mouth off of Giles’ in time to see the newly arrived demons all disappearing into thin air.

Slowly, Giles stopped the sloppy kisses he was bestowing her neck, but he sat very still then, his face still mostly hidden from everyone.

Anya and Xander both looked toward Willow with an exhausted expression, and Faith looked more confused than ever.

“Uh, hi guys.” Willow waved awkwardly. “I uh, figured out the counter-spell, and I would’ve been back sooner but I got, um, briefly uh, interviewed by this blue guy,”

“D’Hoffryn, the bastard.” Anya mused, not actually sounding all that angry.

Buffy started to slowly shift off of Giles’ lap, trying not to call too much attention to themselves and their positioning, but he quickly tightened his hands around her waist and held her still. His expression was a little pale, his eyes wide and serious; mortified. Then she felt why, and she blushed. He was more than a little aroused, and she knew it would take him a minute or two to get it under control.

“Um… why don’t you guys check on Wes?” Buffy suggested, hoping her tone sounded cool and calm.

“Lot of help you were,” Faith smirked at her, the barb not as sharp as it would’ve been in the past. “You two alright down there?”

Xander shifted toward them as if he were going to give them a hand up, and Buffy shook her head quickly.

“We’re fine! Just… taking a breather. He uh, hit his head. Just, you know… give it a minute.” She babbled, and Xander paused and gave them a weird look. Faith shook her head and snorted, picking up Giles’ discarded sword before walking with Willow into the apartment.

“So you made Wesley blind and Xander a demon magnet - what did you tell Giles? That all he wanted to do was make-out with Buffy?” Anya wondered as she followed them in.

“Uhhh something like that,” Willow answered quietly, sounding horribly embarrassed.

“Oh.” Xander suddenly yanked his hand back to himself, seeming to understand Giles’ predicament, and blushed as well. He scratched his hand through his hair and glanced around quickly at everything but them. “I’ll uh, just, uh, go see if they need help. Checking on Wesley.” He stumbled over his feet in his haste to leave them alone. Buffy sat there on top of Giles for a moment, both of them silent in the awkwardness left behind.

“You seem to have a, um, massive affliction there, Giles.” Buffy quipped, and Giles groaned in mortification as he hid his face against Buffy’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

“It’s not like you can help it. Kind of a natural reaction to the smoochies and the friction - not to mention the adrenaline running through you from the fight.” Buffy gently began picking the remaining grass out of his hair and off his sweater.

“I don’t mean _that_ ,” He grimaced though. “I mean snogging you like that in front of them all.”

“It’s not like you’ve lost their respect, Giles,” Buffy told him, cradling the sides of his head so she could get him to look her in the eye. “If anything,” She added more lightly, “I think you might’ve impressed Anya.”

“That’s the last thing I need” He complained good-naturedly. “She’ll be giving me unsolicited kissing tips during work, now.”

“As if you need any.” Buffy snorted, and then she smiled softly at him. “You should let me up. I doubt I’m helping… um… ease your predicament.”

“It’s these damn corduroy trousers,” He fussed, “Too much friction.” He didn’t let go of her waist, though, and he didn’t say anything when Buffy didn’t actually try to move. She raised her eyebrow at him.

“But you wear them all the time. I figured they were your favorite.”

He grinned lopsidedly at her, and slowly arched his hips upward against hers.

“They are.” He whispered, and Buffy gaped at him for a moment before smacking his arm. He giggled, but then she quietly sighed and draped her arms over his shoulders, nuzzling her nose against his temple before softly kissing him there.

“You’re okay though?” She checked of any bodily injuries, and felt him nod, still rubbing his bulge against her. Her thin pants were hardly next to nothing for the friction that she decided she very much liked as well, and she couldn't resist pressing down against him in rhythm to his own gentle movements. “This isn’t helping,” She whispered in a moan, brushing her mouth over his ear, and he shivered as he wrapped his arms more firmly around her and held her down on his lap even tighter.

“Yes it is,” He hummed back, rocking his hips in firm, purposeful movements now, and Buffy groaned as the hard seam of his pants pressed against her clit. “Shh,” He warned her, sounding amused, though he grunted softly a moment later and Buffy had to kiss him to cover the noise.

“Giles,” She laughed quietly as she leaned away from him, and then pried herself off his lap with some kind of willpower dug from deep inside her. He pouted and reached for her, making a noise that actually made her hesitate to jump back onto him, but then she shook her head and stepped back.

“We’ve already been out here long enough,” She pointed out, and he still pouted. God, the way he sat there all rumpled with his legs sprawled and that unavoidable erection - she couldn’t decide between laughing, or crawling back over him.

She swallowed and smiled a bit demurely at him as she lithely got to her feet, and straightened out her own rumpled clothes.

“C’mon, before someone comes back out here.” Buffy offered her hand to him, and he eyed it for a moment that told her very clearly he was debating yanking her back down into his lap. She raised her eyebrow at him, and he sighed heavily. He accepted her hand and stood up as well, twisting a little so he could wipe the dirt off his backside, and Buffy bit her lip as her eyes drifted down below his waist again. She sighed, and he glanced toward her.

“What?”

“You’re wearing that stupid frumpy sweater, and I still wanna screw your brains out.” She sighed again, speaking as if she’d quoted some romantic poetry or something, and he blinked at her. “I must really love you.”

He grabbed her arms and drew her against him, kissing her passionately, until her knees felt weak.

“It’s _your_ fault it’s so frumpy.” He reminded her, fussy, and she grinned as she wiped the pad of her thumb against his lips. He rubbed his bulge a little against her thigh, and she immediately gave him a warning look and then twisted out of his grasp, pretending for a moment that he made it difficult, before standing at arm’s length and holding her palm out at him.

“Stop that, you tease!” She warned him, keeping her voice low, grinning widely.

“ _I’m_ the tease?” He protested. “You’re standing there licking your lips like I’m a bloody ice-cream cone!” Admittedly, she hadn't realized she was doing that.

“There’s only one way to help this.” She decided, and he raised his eyebrows and nodded seriously.

“Yes, there is - kick everyone out of the apartment and -”

She reached out and grabbed both of his hands, then spun him around and pushed him toward the fountain, where the back of his leg hit the edge and he stumbled down into it butt-first.

“Buffy!” He yelped, scrambling to get out of the cold water, succeeding in getting himself more wet before he managed to get back to his feet, but by then she was already halfway into the apartment, laughing uncontrollably.

“What’s going on?” Anya wondered, hesitantly smiling as well. “I’ve never heard Buffy laugh like that before. Is she still under a spell, Willow?”

“We don’t hear that very often either, An,” Xander mused, watching Buffy curiously as she wiped the tear out of her eye. He was slowly grinning, though, Buffy’s humor infectious, and if the room had been tense a moment ago it wasn’t any longer. “Buff? You okay?”

She was laughing too hard to answer him, holding herself up with a hand on the door frame, watching as Giles sloshed to his feet, standing there dripping with his clothes sticking to him, a scowl on his face. At least his boner was gone, now.

“Not any spell of _mine_ ,” Willow chortled, but then her smile wavered when Wesley cleared his throat warningly.

“I believe we should have a serious talk, Willow, about when it is appropriate to use magic,”

“Eep!” Buffy’s yelp interrupted Wesley’s scolding as she darted fully inside of the house, pushing by Faith at the entry to the hall and disappearing back toward the bathroom. The door slammed just as Giles stalked into the house, leaving a trail of water behind him. He didn’t look at a single one of them, just walked determinedly after Buffy, his shoes squeaking wetly on the floor.

“P-perhaps tomorrow.” Wesley decided quickly. Faith looked highly amused as they all heard the doorknob rattle.

“What in the world have I missed?” Faith asked with interest, and Xander slung his arm across Anya’s shoulders as the couple led the group out of the apartment.

“Did Buff tell you about the time Giles turned into a demon?” He announced jovially, and Faith raised an eyebrow toward Wesley, who only looked alarmed. Xander giggled and launched into the story, as Wesley carefully closed the once-again broken door behind them.

“Let me in.” Giles demanded Buffy through the bathroom door, wriggling the locked handle again.

“What’s the secret password?” Buffy laughed, and he pretended to growl in annoyance.

“It’s _my_ bathroom!” He protested.

“That’s a dumb password.” She noted tonelessly, and he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Buffy, _please_.”

“Mm, that’s nice,” He could _hear_ her smile, “but strike two!”

He opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it, considering.

“…If you open the door, I’ll let you join me in the shower.” He offered hopefully. The bathroom door suddenly wrenched open, and Buffy stared up at him with one hand on her hip.

“You’ll _let_ me?” She repeated with a snort, and then reached out with her other hand and grabbed the waistband of his trousers, yanking him into the room by the front of his pants and closing the door again behind him.

Peals of laughter drifted down the hall soon after.


	24. Chapter 23 (Pangs)

“I love a ritual sacrifice!” Anya chirped as the three ladies scrounged through the grocery store to see what remained of holiday-type food.

“It’s not really a one of those,” Buffy drawled.

“To commemorate a past event, you kill and eat an animal.” Anya pointed out. “It’s a ritual sacrifice. With pie.” She held up the can of pumpkin she’d just picked off the shelf, wiggling it pointedly before adding it to their cart. “What time is it? I told Xander I’d go and watch him dig again this morning. I can’t believe he’s going back even after he fell into that hole…” She frowned, perturbed, and Buffy was surprised to see just how much Anya seemed to actually care for him. Then the ex-demon shrugged, a pleased look on her face. “Ah well. I get to see him all sweaty and muscle-y again.”

“He said he needed the money. He’s trying to buy his own place, you know.” Willow reminded her, and Anya quickly smiled in a sort of dreamy way.

“Yeah.” Before she could possibly start talking about daydreaming of having sex with him again, Willow changed the subject a little, in her ‘excited subsitute teacher’ voice Buffy had first heard in their computer class in high school.

“It wasn’t just a random sinkhole, you know - it was the old Sunnydale Mission! Everyone thought it was lost in the huge earthquake in 1812. They just assumed it had been leveled, and built right over it.” She explained as she distractedly grabbed pre-made pie crusts from the shelves. “It’s like what happened in the thirties with that church the Master was in. Doesn’t it make you wonder what else is there, like right under our feet?”

“You mean other than the Hellmouth?” Buffy quipped, and Willow smirked wryly.

“Oh, right.”

“Are you going to get your own place, Buffy?” Anya suddenly wondered curiously, her eyes scanning the shelves again. “After you graduate. Or are you just going to move in with Giles?”

“I- ” Buffy startled at the question. She hadn’t really thought about that; graduation seemed so far away. Was Giles thinking about it?

Willow seemed to sense Buffy’s growing panic, and quickly took over the conversation again, veering it back toward the old earthquake.

**... ... ...**

“Do you even  _ own _ a turkey pan?” Buffy grumbled as she searched through Giles’ cabinets.

“Tell me again why we’re not doing this at your house.” Giles wondered dryly, removing his glasses from his face as he leaned a hand on the counter.

“Giles,” Buffy gave him a look. “if you would like to get by in American society, then you are going to have to follow our traditions.” She ignored the quick flick of his eyes, checking her out. He wasn’t about to distract her with  _ his _ wily ways. “You’re the patriarch - you have to host the festivities, or it’s all meaningless.”

“And this is in no way an elaborate scheme to stick me with the cleanup?” He raised his eyebrows at her, and she hesitated for a moment before quickly reaching for one of the grocery bags.

“How about that ceremonial knife, huh? Pretty juicy piece of clueage, don’t ya think?”

“Yes, alright,” He gave in rather quickly, smiling a little as he shifted to lean his hips back against the edge of the counter. “I’ll look into the, uh, Chumash connection and see if there’s any ritual significance to the ear removal.”

“Thank you!” Buffy chirped, rising on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek as she passed him. “I still need to pick up a few things, so I’ll check in.” She poked her finger warningly against his belly as she added, “And keep your hands off the food.” He gave her an indignant look, and followed her out of the kitchen as he snarked,

“Oh, I’ll try to restrain myself from eating uncooked potatoes and cranberries.”

She gave him another warning look as she grabbed her coat, and he leaned down to give her a peck before she could turn out the door, smirking a little as he straightened. Her serious expression dissolved into a smile and she brushed her fingers down his forearm.

“We’re having real whipped cream for the pie… but do you want me to get another thing of the stuff in the can, too?”

“It’s easy to have on hand for ice-cream,” He pointed out a little defensively, and she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“It wasn’t ice-cream you were -”

“Alright, alright,” He huffed, pushing her out the door, and she laughed as she crossed the courtyard, delighting in her ability to make him blush.

**... ... ...**

After having to deal with what happened at the church and to Father Gabriel, Buffy decided to head straight to her dorm that night and update Giles in the morning. Campus was closer to the church, and anyway, she wanted to get Willow to search the university library in the morning for anything she could find on the Chumash, while she and Giles dealt with preparing the food.

She was not necessarily happy to have to be awake and fully-functional so early in the morning, but Giles had coffee waiting for her and was mostly patient as he watched her turn his neat kitchen into a more chaotic sort of order.

“It’s clear we’re dealing with a spirit of some kind,” Giles mused as he worked on peeling the potatoes over the sink, after Buffy had finished relaying how her night had gone. “It’s very common for Indian spirits to change into animal form.”

“Yeah, well, it’s plenty  _ uncommon  _ for me to freeze up during a fight.” Buffy returned, sticking the turkey in the oven and making sure the temperature was right. “I mean, I had the guy, I was ready for the take-down, and I stopped.” She grabbed the bowl of pie batter she’d been working on and moved it out of Giles’ way to the last empty spot on the bar counter, adding, “And,  _ Native American _ .”

“Sorry?” He didn’t follow.

“We don’t say ‘Indian’.” She informed him, sliding her palm across his back as she stepped around him to move the yams from the counter to the other rack in the oven.

“Oh, oh right, yes. Yes, um, always behind on the terms.” He chuckled a little dryly. “Still trying not to refer to you lot as ‘bloody Colonials’.”

“And the thing is,” Buffy ignored his sass, “I like my evil like I like my men - evil. You know, ‘straight up, black hat, tied to the train tracks, soon my electro-ray will destroy Metropolis’ bad. Not all mixed up with guilt and the destruction of an indigenous culture.”

“This, uh, spirit warrior - Hus, you called him? - has killed innocent people.” Giles pointed out carefully, pausing his work with the potatoes to turn and face her. He reached out to pull the lock of hair over her shoulder behind her back and out of her way, running his hand along her bare shoulder and rubbing his thumb against the nape of her neck.

“Okay… you know what, we need to… um,” She got distracted by the tinglies for a moment, but then turned to face him, also shifting from beneath his touch. “We need to boil those and then put them through the ricer.” She glanced back at the recipe book she’d been reading.

“I don’t think I have a ricer.” Giles frowned as he thought about what was in his cabinets. Buffy turned toward him again.

“You don’t have a ricer?” She demanded. “What do you mean? How could someone not have a ricer?” He got that frowny, pouty face that he’d learned to often adopt whenever she fussed at him, and she hated it, because she could never stay fussy at him for long when he had that face.

“W-well, do you have one at home?” He returned, putting his free hand on his hip. She paused for a second, deflating.

“I don’t know. What’s a ricer?”

“We’ll mash them with forks, much like the pilgrims must have.” Giles snarked in exasperation. “Did you catch the part about the innocent people?”

“Yes.” She assured him. “Okay? And I  _ do _ want to stop him. I’d just like to find a non-slayee way to do it.”

“I understand your hesitation, Buffy,” He told her softly, setting down the potato and peeler in his hand and quickly wiping it clean on the apron around his waist before reaching for her. “But he may not give you a choice. Least of which this is a  _ spirit _ , the man behind the form long dead,”

“But he’s just doing his duty, defending his people.” Buffy returned, pouting a little but letting him grab onto her waist and guide her against the edge of the counter. “Just like me.”

“Except you don’t kill the innocent, and you’re not dead.” He raised his eyebrows, and Buffy sighed. “C’mon, luv, you’re too tense,” He murmured, kneading the pads of his fingers firmly where they rested against her back.

“The bread!” She suddenly exclaimed, his action reminding her, and she twisted around in his grip to peruse the messy counter and grabbed the bowl that had dough rising in it. It needed kneading again, and she ignored him as she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows and dug her knuckles into the dough.

Giles sidled up behind her and slid his hands down her arms, pressing his body up against her back as his hands joined hers in the mixing bowl. She could feel that he’d gotten rid of his apron for the time being, and turned her head to the side to narrow her eyes at him suspiciously. He took the opportunity to kiss her softly, and he should’ve been finishing up with the potatoes so they could get them boiled and mashed, but she quickly gave in as he kissed her slowly and passionately.

He leaned his weight against her as he kneaded the dough with her, her hands beneath his. She hummed in pleasure under her breath, and continued to work on the dough, using the movement of her hands and arms to over-exaggerate and rock back against his crotch. It just felt so  _ good _ to have his body fitted against hers; the way she felt like she fit like a puzzle piece within the crook of his arms and against the breadth of his chest.

Through both their jeans she could feel how hard he was against her ass, and she smiled against his lips as she rubbed purposely against his bulge before turning her head back toward the mixing bowl. Giles lowered his head beside hers, breathing softly against her ear, and she could hear how aroused he was as well as feel it. The size of his body alone, ‘trapping’ her against the counter like this, was enough to turn her on, and she desperately hoped that Willow was going to show up late, for once in her life.

She was a little too tense; maybe a little bit of fondling would help her chill out about this whole Thanksgiving thing. She just wanted the day to be perfect…

A knock on the door startled them both, and Giles was the one who sighed this time as Buffy froze. He danced his fingers against the backs of her knuckles for a teasing moment before pulling away and returning to the sink, rinsing his hands clean and picking up his discarded apron from the floor. Buffy wiped her hands off on a dish towel and went to get the door, knowing Giles was going to keep half hidden behind the counters until the bulge in his pants settled down a little.

“Hey,” Willow greeted when Buffy opened the door. She had a huge stack of books in her arms, two small black boxes of some kind of food on top.

“Hey!” Buffy returned arily, hoping Willow wouldn’t be able to tell that she’d interrupted anything. “Peas?”

“Peas.” Willow confirmed, and Buffy took them as she stepped aside to let Willow enter and closed the door behind her. “

“Wha- these are frozen!” Buffy exclaimed as Willow attempted to carefully dump her books onto Giles’ desk.

“What’s all that?” Giles wondered.

“Atrocities.” Willow told him. “I got the full poop on the Chumash Indians and our fabulous buried Mission.”

“You said you were gonna get fresh ones,” Buffy said.

“Atrocities?” Willow wondered, a little out of breath and confused.

“Peas, they come in little pods, you were gonna shell them.”

“Oh, I didn’t have time. I was busy reading about the Chumash war.” Willow explained.

“The Chumash were peaceful.” Giles frowned, half-focused on the potato he had resumed peeling.

“They were peaceful, alright,” Willow replied, “they were fluffy indigenous kittens ‘til  _ we  _ came along.”

“They’re gonna be mushy.” Buffy pouted at the boxes in her hands.

“They won’t be mushy.” Willow promised her.

“I like mushy peas.” Giles announced with a hopeful smile, and Buffy rolled her eyes as Willow gave him a tired look.

“You’re the reason we had to have pilgrims in the first place.” Buffy grumbled, setting the peas on the counter along with everything else. “So,” She turned back to Willow and ignored Giles’ pout. Willow’s research had to be worth something, and if they could get this out of the way then she could get them all focused back on dinner. “What happened to the Chumash?”

“How about imprisonment, forced labor, herded like animals into a Mission full of bad European diseases,” Willow’s tone said exactly what she thought about that, and Buffy inwardly sighed even as she grimaced. That didn’t sound very culturally partner-y, but she also didn’t want Willow to get on another one of her mother’s rants.

“Boy. The Cultural Partnership Center really didn’t stress any of that stuff.” Buffy commented.

“Not even a diorama. And it gets better,” Willow huffed sarcastically. “The few Chumash who tried to rebel were hanged. And- and when a group was accused of stealing cattle, they were killed - men, women, and children. And for proof to bring back to their accusers,”

“They cut off their ears?” Giles guessed softly, draping his apron over his shoulder and joining them out in the main room.

“So Hus wasn’t kidding about the rightful vengeance routine.” Buffy mused. “He’s recreating all the wrongs done to his people.”

“And it’s up to us to stop him.” Giles added.

“Yes but,  _ after _ dinner, right?” Buffy pointed out hopefully.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be  _ helping  _ him?” Willow frowned, and Buffy’s hope drained as she sensed an argument coming on.

“No, I think perhaps we  _ won’t _ help the angry spirit with his rape and pillage and murder.” Giles snarked as he stepped closer to the ladies.

“Well, okay, no,” Willow amended, “but we should be helping him redress his wrongs. Bring the atrocities to light.”

“Well if the history books are full of them, I’d say they already are.” Giles pointed out, his voice rising just a little bit in that ‘I’m older and wiser and you’ll do as I say’ tone, and Buffy winced.

“Giving his land back!” Willow haphazardly suggested.

“You know, we could always just- ” Buffy tried to butt in.

“It’s not exactly  _ ours _ to give.” Giles put his hands on his hips.

“You know, I don’t think you wanna help!” Willow fussed. “I- I think you just wanna slay the demon so you can go ‘la-la-la, let’s play mom and dad’,”

“You know- ” Buffy tried again; their fussing was starting to make her really anxious, but she might as well have been invisible.

“And I think your- your sympathy for his plight has blinded you to certain urgent facts.” Giles interrupted both of them, annoyed, tugging his glasses off his face. “We have to stop this thing.”

“Okay, unfeeling guy.” Willow grumbled.

“Willow, that’s not fair.” Giles lowered his voice.

“I have to baste.” Buffy blurted, seeking refuge back in the messy kitchen. Thankfully, they seemed to realize that they were getting a little too into the debate, and lowered their voices until Buffy could barely hear them at all… at least until Willow said,

“And I happen to think  _ mine _ is the level head, and  _ yours _ is the one things would roll off of.”

Giles made an aghast kind of noise, but then another knock on the door stopped him before he could respond, and Buffy hurried to open it, hoping to God it was Xander to bring a little more levity to the place.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” He greeted through an obviously stuffy nose, his arm around Anya’s shoulders.

“Xander!” Willow greeted worriedly.

“You look like death.” Giles commented.

“Are you okay?” Willow asked.

“You didn’t bring rolls?” Buffy fretted of their otherwise empty hands. Willow brushed by her to help Anya practically drag Xander into the house and over to the couch where he could lay down. Buffy closed the door again and returned to the kitchen, deciding the bread alone would have to do, and picked up the bowl of pie mix again to stir it.

Giles gave her a look as he dampened a washcloth at the sink, and Buffy furrowed her brow back at him.

“Okay, so we don’t really need rolls…” She muttered lamely. “Mom always seemed to have this stuff planned out and smooth…”

“Dinner will be lovely, Buffy, don’t worry.” Giles promised her, wringing out the excess water in the rag before putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “As soon as we see to Xander, I’ll help you finish up in here, alright?”

“Help me?” She repeated wryly. “You mean like what you were doing earlier? Because I wouldn’t exactly call that ‘helping’,”

He rolled his eyes at the twinkle he could see in hers, a tiny little smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, and they joined the others in the living room just as Willow finished bringing Xander up to speed about the Chumash warrior.

“The doc couldn’t figure out what was up with me,” Xander explained to them, now covered by the throw blanket that had been on the back of the couch. Giles handed the damp washcloth to Anya, where she began to dab it on Xander’s forehead, and Buffy brought the mixing bowl with her to sit near his feet.

She did care that he wasn’t feeling well, she just… wanted today to go well, and so far it wasn’t so much.

“He said I had a lot of symptoms that didn’t connect,” Xander finished saying.

“I think they do connect.” Buffy figured with a frown.

“What, to this Chumash spirit vengeance guy?” He asked.

“Will, didn’t you say the Chumash got all diseased when they were all holed up in the Mission?” Buffy asked Willow, who had brought over a few of her books and had them opened on the coffee table to some bookmarked pages.

“Yeah, uh…” She danced her fingers across them until she picked one up and brought it closer in front of her. “This one has a better account of everything. It lists the various -”

“ _ Various _ ?” Xander interrupted in alarm. “As in…?”

“W-well, the important thing is not to panic.” Willow smiled hesitantly, but Xander wasn’t swayed.

“You just recited the mystical panic-causing incantation, so little hope there.” He sassed. “Let’s talk about the various.”

“Well they- they did suffer from malaria, some smallpox,” Willow began carefully.

“I was gonna say smallpox!” Anya noted, as if it were a guessing game and she’d won.

“You know,” Willow glanced up at him quickly, “syphilis - but basically standard sort of- ”

“Syphilis?!” Xander repeated, even more alarmed. “ _ Syphilis _ ?”

“Well, but this is probably mystical,” Willow tried to comfort him, “and it’ll all go away as soon as -”

“As soon as what?” Buffy interrupted her, gently but pointedly, and glanced up toward Giles where he stood near her behind the back of the couch. “We still don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

“Well, maybe I can find something.” Willow offered quickly, shifting her pile of books around.

“Let’s give him some land,” Giles offered sarcastically, strolling over toward his bookshelf. “I’m sure that’ll clear everything right up.”

“Sarcasm accomplishes nothing, Giles.” Buffy chided him, short-tempered by their silly arguing.

“It’s sort of an end in itself.” He mumbled, taking his glasses off as he leaned against the bookshelf.

“Hey can we come rocketing back to the part about me and my new syphilis?” Xander suggested with a nervous laugh, and Anya soothed the rag across his forehead again.

“It’ll make you blind and insane, but it won’t kill you,” She offered hopefully, but then added, “The smallpox will.”

“Maybe there’s a Wiccan spell that can cure it.” Willow wondered. “You know, something regular medicine doesn’t know about. Ohh,” She lit up and flipped a few pages until she came across a loose sheet of paper, “there was a potion…” She pulled it out and unfolded it to read, “Sage, salt… onion?”

“That’s the stuffing.” Buffy informed her.

“Oh, God.” Xander moaned.

“Uh, you’re gonna get vesicles and pustules,” Anya told him as she read from one of the other books. “They have pictures.” Xander winced away from the page she offered to show him.

“I hate this guy.”

“He’s just doing what was done to him.” Willow muttered, not quite under her breath.

“I didn’t give him syphilis!” Xander protested.

“No, but you freed his spirit.” Giles pointed out, straightening again and pacing back toward the couch. “And after a century of unrest, he saw  _ you  _ as one of his oppressors.”

“What, so he rises up and infects the first guy he sees?” Xander complained. “That’s no fair!”

“Like you’ve never woken up cranky?” Willow huffed, and Buffy pursed her lips as she mixed up the batter a little more hastily in her frustration. While Giles’ solution felt a little too hasty for Buffy, she also thought Willow was blatantly ignoring the serious problems the spirit was causing - and to their  _ friend _ , especially.

“But why the others? Why them particularly?” Giles seemed to be going off on his own wavelength as he continued to pace thoughtfully.

“So we take this guy out!” Xander pointed out obviously. “Buffy, it is for to be slaying sometime soon, yeah?”

“That’s… sort of the question before the court.” She glanced hesitantly between Giles and Willow as she continued to stir.

“Question?” Xander repeated, his tone dipping seriously, and Buffy ducked her head toward the bowl in her lap. She didn’t want to get in the middle of it - she just wanted to make a good dinner for her ‘family’. It’s not like she did this cooking thing very often, even with the few times over the summer Giles had taught her some things.

“There are two sides to it.” Willow informed her oldest friend.

“To slaying him?” Xander wondered incredulously. “The representative from syphilis votes yea.” He lifted his hand off the couch as Anya continued to clean the sick-sweats off his face.

“It’s not that simple,” Willow reasoned.

“He’s a vengeance demon.” Xander protested anxiously. “You don’t  _ talk _ to vengeance demons. You  _ kill _ them.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Anya stopped stroking his hair, and Buffy stopped stirring.

Oh, yikes.

“What?” Xander wondered, lost, seeming not to realize what he’d said.

“Anyway, he’s a spirit, not a demon.” Willow corrected carefully, glancing between the two lovers.

“Yes, and we’ve never faced this sort of spirit before. We really don’t know what will kill it.” Giles added seriously.

“A demon has to do what a demon has to do,” Anya informed Xander tersely, as Willow rolled her eyes at Giles,

“Again with the killing!”

“Oh, right - it’s still evil!” Xander grouched back toward Anya.

“Figuratively speaking,” Giles said to Willow, ignoring Xander as he propped his hands on his hips again, fed up. “Or  _ bind _ it or  _ whatever _ , yes Willow, we all appreciate your perspective.”

“It’s not about perspective, it’s about doing what’s right,” Willow defended.

“You know, sometimes vengeance is justified.” Anya not-quite-snapped at Xander, completely ignoring everyone else.

“You know that I didn’t mean you!” Xander exclaimed as if that were obvious.

“It’s not right to let a murderer go unpunished!” Giles was shouting by now as well.

“I don’t think anyone appreciates the truth of the situation.” Willow griped.

“Oh, I think we do.” Giles retorted, leaning over the back of the couch, and Buffy jumped to her feet. Everybody was getting too loud now, and their tones with one another sharper and sharper, grating heavily on something inside of Buffy.

“You’re just saying that because you’re intimidated by me.” Anya complained to Xander.

“This is no good!” Buffy shouted over all of them, and they all stopped, staring at her. The heavy silence was almost even more stifling than their arguing, and she looked down at the bowl in her hands. “It needs more condensed milk,” She muttered, and slunk off into the kitchen.

As much as she loved when the Scoobies were all on the same page, she equally hated when they didn’t get along. It unsettled her, more deeply than she cared to admit. The fact that this was supposed to be their first ‘family dinner’ only made that feeling worse.

“Buffy,” Giles followed after her, lowering his voice to a normal level at least, “Xander is in real danger. Are you sure the solution is  _ pie _ ?”

“Over bickering and confusion, I’ll take pie.” Buffy sighed, trying to shake off her discomfort as she brushed by him to get the opened can of milk from the refrigerator.

“We will find a solution.” He insisted.

“And we will have a nice dinner, okay?” Buffy returned, raising her voice a little to match his, which still wasn’t super calm. “Both. End of story.” She poured more milk into the mixing bowl and resumed her frustrated stirring. “I am  _ going _ to have Thanksgiving, and it is  _ going _ to be perfect.”

“Hus won’t stop. Vengeance is never sated, Buffy. Hatred is a cycle. All he will do is kill.” Giles told her as if she needed reminding of that fact, leaning over a little so he was more eye-level with her. She narrowed her gaze at him warningly.

“ _ I’m  _ gonna do some killing if someone else in this house doesn’t start helping with dinner.” She growled, and he blinked. He glanced at the kitchen behind her, still full of half-prepared food, and his frustration melted away into sheepishness.

“I’ll put the potatoes on to boil.” He mumbled, his tone mildly apologetic, and tucked his glasses back over his nose before shifting around her to do just that.

“I’ll help with something.” Anya offered, hopping up after giving Xander a dirty look, and joining Buffy in the kitchen. It was likely more of an excuse to get away from him than it was to be helpful, but Buffy accepted the offer nonetheless.

“The yams?” Buffy requested, a little more at ease now that at least a part of the gang was all on the same page about something. “One of these pans has the brown sugar in it for the sweet mixture that’ll go on top. It needs, uh, a little bit of water, and butter added to it. Brought to a boil.”

“How much butter?” Anya wondered as Giles finished at the stove and moved out of her way, his brow furrowed thoughtfully, and Buffy knew he was thinking about their Chumash predicament again. As long as he did so quietly, she’d let him.

“About half a stick,” Buffy told her. “And a quarter cup of brandy right before you take it off the heat.” She gave Giles a wry look. “You  _ do  _ have brandy, don’t you?”

“What?” He murmured, still distracted for a second, before he realized what she’d asked. “Oh, yes. Um, on the bookcase,” He gestured vaguely toward the living room, and then took his glasses off again as he rubbed his fingers against his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Buffy worried, sliding her pie mix into the fridge to cool.

“The victims.” He mused curiously. “Apart from Xander, Hus has targeted authority figures. Father Gabriel, the curator of the cultural center… who else fits this pattern?”

“The dean.” Buffy realized. “Dean Guerrero, he’s the… ‘king of us’. And he was at the ceremony.”

“Likely candidate.” Giles agreed. “We should warn him.”

“Will,” Buffy sighed as she came to a decision. If she could at least get the others to help out with the food more, then she could focus a little of her own time on their spirit warrior problem. She was the Slayer, and Anya had sort of a point - sometimes, a Slayer’s gotta do what a Slayer’s gotta do. “Anything in those books about how to stop a Native American spirit guy? Some nice, non-judgemental way to, you know, kill him?” She winced a little as she approached Willow again, who stood and defensively clutched the book she’d been reading against her chest.

“I’m not gonna help you kill him!” Willow protested. “I’m not on board.”

“What choice do we have?” Buffy reasoned.

“Buffy, this isn’t a western. We’re not at Fort… Giles, with the cavalry coming to save us.” Willow was  _ really  _ channeling her mother, today. Giles pursed his lips at that, but said nothing. “It’s one lonely guy, oppressed warrior guy, who’s just trying to -”

“Kill a lot of people?” Buffy interrupted pointedly. As much as she felt for the guy’s plight, she agreed that it didn’t give him the right to kill innocent people that had nothing to do with his past.

“I didn’t say he was right.” Willow mumbled.

“Will, you know how bad I feel about this - a quarter cup and let it simmer a little,” She reminded Anya who passed by with the bottle of brandy in her hand. “- but even though it’s hard, we have to end this.”

“I just think -”

“How is this  _ hard _ ?” Xander exclaimed, fed up with them, sounding more delirious than ever. “Alright, fine - we came in and we killed them, and we took their land. That’s what conquering nations  _ do _ . It’s what Caesar did, and he’s not going around saying, ‘I came, I conquered, I felt really bad about it’.” The others slowly turned their gazes on Xander, surprised by his feverish tirade. “The history of the world isn’t people making friends. We had better weapons, and we massacred them. End of story.” He huffed out a scratchy, exhausted breath, and squeezed his eyes closed in pain for a moment.

“Well, I think the Spaniards actually did a lot of -”

“Now isn’t the time to prove you actually didn’t sleep all the way through history class, Xander.” Willow interrupted Buffy, scowling at him as if he’d betrayed her.

“I just wanna have Thanksgiving.” Buffy mumbled.

“I just wanna not  _ die _ from  _ syphilis _ !” Xander returned.

“It would be the smallpox -” Anya began to pipe up from the kitchen.

“ _ Yes, dear _ .” Xander hissed, closing his eyes again.

“If we could just talk to him,” Willow started, and Xander opened his eyes again to struggle as he propped himself up onto his elbows.

“We exterminated his race, Willow.” He said as firmly as he could manage. “What could you possibly say that could make him feel better? We’re at ‘kill or be killed’ stage, here.”

“I made a lot of these points earlier,” Giles grumbled as he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, “but, you know, it’s fine, no one listens to me.”

“ _ Fine _ , okay?” Buffy gave him a warning look again. “But someone still has to go warn the dean.”

“I’ll go.” Willow had her big frowny face on, but seemed to have stood down for the time being. “I need the air.”

“Not alone,” Buffy insisted, and Anya offered,

“I’ll go.”

“Me, too.” Xander sighed, trying to pull himself up off the couch further, and Buffy furrowed her brow at him.

“You sure you’re up to it?” She asked him doubtfully.

“I’ll- I’ll keep looking for a solution,” Giles announced, trailing his fingers against the spines of his books on his desk, and Xander grimaced at the pile on the coffee table.

“I’m up to it.” He assured Buffy, likely not wanting to stumble across any more photos of whatever diseases he might currently have.

“The dean’s house is up past the gym,” Buffy called out in reminder as they gathered their coats and slunk out the door. “And hurry? Dinner’s in an hour!”

The silence in the apartment after their departure was a little awkward, and Buffy slipped back into the kitchen to check the pots on the stove, none of which were boiling yet. She tapped her fingers against her thighs, thinking for something she could do while she waited on that. For the first time since this morning, she had nothing immediate really pressing, and after the hustle and bustle of food preparation and then the tension between the others, she was feeling anxious again.

“I’m sorry for venting my frustrations at you.” Giles murmured from the entry, and Buffy looked at him wearily.

“I just don’t like it when the Scoobies argue,” She returned quietly, and frowned a little. “Everybody’s all… short-tempered today.” Giles frowned a bit thoughtfully as well, knowing that she was on to something from the tone of her voice. “Do you think… it could be the spirit guy? He’s done something to make us all… rawr?” She arched her fingers like claws, and Giles nodded slowly as he considered that.

“It could be possible.” He looked sheepish again as he admitted, “Our arguing was fairly silly, wasn’t it?”

“I mean, I do get feeling bad for the Chumash,” Buffy reasoned softly. “But this guy is causing chaos.” She sighed, still tapping her fingers against her jeans. “Help me move your desk and bring in the table and chairs?”

“Of course.” He murmured, but didn’t move when she approached the entry. When she stood within six inches of him she raised her eyebrow, and he smiled apologetically and brushed her hair off her shoulder again. “I’m sorry I’ve not made your day much easier thus far. I promise I’ll be, um, helpful guy from now on.”

She rested her hand against the center of his chest, soaking in the heat of him through his sweater, feeling his heartbeat.

“Don’t make it sound like the day is ruined.” She quirked a little smile at him. “It’s not over yet.”

His smile softened and he leaned down to kiss her softly. When he went to deepen it however, running his tongue along her upper lip, she gently pulled away, chuckling as she pushed him back with the hand that was still on his chest.

“We’re never gonna get the furniture moved if you start that.” She informed him, wryly amused.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied dutifully, even though he sighed in disappointment as he followed her down the hall to the tiny spare room that was his storage.

**... ... ...**

She decided not to fuss when Giles drifted back toward one of the books Willow had brought, after the furniture was in place. He barely reacted when she lifted the book up to set the tablecloth beneath it, his head moving with it as he continued to read, and she rolled her eyes fondly as she set the book back down and went to gather the silverware.

It’d been a while since she’d been around while he was truly in his ‘study-mode’ and she wasn’t in one herself, and for a moment she missed the high school library, his tweed suits, his distracted ‘hmm?’s.

“I hope the others are okay.” She mused mostly to herself as she glanced out of the living room window, where the daylight had significantly waned. Giles didn’t respond as he slowly turned a page. “Giles? Plates?”

Instead of a cute little hum, he merely moved his book to the little shelf behind the couch and went to fetch the dinner plates. Buffy pouted a little in disappointment, but didn’t say anything else as they worked around one another to set the table.

He rested his hand low on her hip when he reached over her shoulder to set a plate between the silverware she had just placed, and as he straightened to move toward the next place setting, he slid his hand around and down to the curve of her butt and gave it a squeeze. She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye, but he wore an innocent expression as he seemed focused on what he was doing.

“You keep those wandering hands to yourself once the Scoobies get back,” She warned him lightly, and he looked up at her as if he only just realized she was there.

“Hmm?”

Buffy laughed and, now with her hands emptied, gripped the front of his sweater and tugged him against her. He held his hands out to the sides so he didn’t accidentally hit her with the two plates he still held, but immediately dipped his head so she could more easily reach his grinning mouth with her own.

“Dinner is gonna be a nice, quiet, civilized -”

An arrow suddenly pierced the little scarecrow table setting she’d put out, interrupting her teasing words, and she and Giles startled apart immediately. He dropped the plates a little heavily onto the table and gripped her arms, stepping further back from the stairs even as they both followed the angle of the arrow toward the window at the landing.

“You!” Buffy recognized the spirit warrior, Hus, standing at the opened window with a bow in his hand. “Listen, maybe I wasn’t clear before about how terrible we all feel? ‘Cause we’re trying to help.” She tried to reason quickly, but he only smirked as he reached behind him to pull another arrow out of the quiver on his back.

“It isn’t working!” Giles tried to pull her further back, perhaps to take cover on the other side of the sofa, but then one of the windows by the fireplace was smashed open, and they spun around to see another Chumash warrior taking aim with a bow. “Get down!” Giles shouted, pushing Buffy down behind the sofa where they were and ducking down with her just as two arrows pierced the sofa cushion.

Another window crashed and just as they peeked together over the edge of their hiding place, an arrow zipped through the air between their heads, burrowing into the wall next to the front door. They grabbed one another’s shoulders and pushed each other down again.

Giles’ phone rang then, and he snaked a hand up to grab the receiver as Buffy peeked up only to duck another arrow.

“H-hello? Oh, yes.” He answered, and she looked at him like he was nuts, gripping his shoulder and tugging him low again as she peeked over the edge of the dining table to see if Hus had moved at all. “Um, yes, w-w-we’re well aware of that, we’re-” An arrow drew too close to his head again as he turned to see what Buffy was looking at, and she pushed him down again. “We’re under siege now, actually, thank you.” Giles hung up the phone, and Buffy frowned at him again.

“Who was that?!”

“Uh, Willow. She seemed to finally have a rational thought about warriors going after other warriors.” He answered distractedly, keeping low as he tried to squeeze around her to switch sides, keeping themselves below the line of fire as he peeked around the end of the couch. “We need a plan!”

“Where’s your weapons chest?” Buffy asked, and he glanced back over his shoulder to point toward the bar counter.

“Over there,” It had been pushed up against the wall beneath the counter, and was out in the open. Buffy groaned under her breath, and brushed her hair out of her eyes. If she was quick… 

Or not.

She cried out as an arrow pierced her forearm just as she got her hand on the lid of the chest, and Giles immediately shouted her name in concern as she tried to shift back to safety without putting weight on her injured arm. He grabbed onto her and pulled her back completely, both of them crouching as best they could as they both pressed their hands on either side of the wound.

Giles snatched a nearby napkin off the table as Buffy broke off the wooden shaft of the arrow with a painful grunt, and pressed it against the wound to stymie the blood flow.

“How many?” Buffy asked him for confirmation as she darted her gaze around, taking count as well, holding her hand overtop of his both to comfort him that she’d be alright, and pull some strength from his touch to distract herself from the pain.

“Uh, um, the leader upstairs… two by the living room windows. Um… one through the window by the door.” They were trapped in hiding, without any weapons easily accessible.

“It’s too many.” Buffy confirmed with grim logic.

“We need help.” Giles agreed gravely. Buffy looked over his shoulder again toward the weapons chest, and he raised his eyebrow.

“We can’t just sit here and wait for it.” She knew he could see the determination in her eyes, and he scanned around for anything to be used as a weapon.

“The one at the back window has the clearest shot,” The one who had hit her, “I’ll distract him.” He grabbed the sharp dinner knife that had clattered to the floor when he’d yanked the napkin out from under it, and flipped it so the pointy end was held between his fingers. “Ready?”

She nodded once, and they paused just long enough to time the rhythm of the guys reloading on the opposite side of the house.

“Now!” Giles ordered as he straightened quickly, pulling his arm back and flinging the knife toward the window with an accuracy that belied his meager ‘historian’ air. Buffy took the opportunity to duck around him and grab at the chest itself, pulling the whole thing closer toward them as she scrambled back behind cover just in time.

The arrows seemed to fly impossible faster, now, and Buffy wondered where these guys were getting all this ammunition. Amazingly, Giles’ crossbows were right on top in the chest, and they each grabbed one and carefully braced themselves.

“I’ve got the one in the far corner.” Giles growled, and Buffy knew he was pissed at the guy for landing a shot on her. A tiny little shiver went through her body; the Slayer part of her impressed and aroused. She shook her shoulders and pushed the feeling down. Now was  _ so _ not the time.

“I’ll go for the leader.” She replied, choosing not to comment on his intent for vengeance. It didn’t really matter now - they all needed taken out, and if he wanted to go for that guy first, then more power to him. Plus… yeah, a part of her always liked it when he got a little defensive over her. “On three, okay?”

“On three.” He confirmed. They each checked their weapons and readied to fire them.

“One… two… three,” They both rose up on a knee and fired at their targets, but Hus managed to somehow dodge Buffy’s arrow. She grimaced as she ducked again, and when Giles crouched low again as well and met her eyes, it seemed his shot hadn’t done much damage either.

“Nicked his arm but it didn’t even phase him,” He glowered, and she pursed her lips in frustration.

Some of the warriors seemed distracted by something going on outside, and Buffy hoped it was their backup. They took the opportunity to dig through the chest for more ammo, but then Hus burst through the window and onto the landing with an annoyed cry.

“Enough! Get them!” He ordered, and the rest of his men broke fully into the house as well.

“Bloody hell,” Giles complained, maybe about his windows, maybe about the fight getting more serious, and Buffy grabbed onto one of the knives from the chest and leapt up to fight off Hus before he got too close. She saw Giles wrap his fingers around a hatchet as he stood as well, fairly quickly taking down one guy that ran at him.

Lord have mercy on her; that was hot too, but she couldn’t watch his back as she engaged with Hus. She trusted he could hold his own so long as he didn’t get hit with the occasional stray arrow that was still flying through the apartment, and she pushed down her own excitement again. Hus was talented with his knife, but she did manage to evade and block until she could throw him off balance over the back of the couch.

She stabbed him right in the chest with her own knife, but instead of reacting as she expected - or even dying - he swiped his knife across her bicep and rolled back onto his feet as she staggered back in surprise.

“Ah!” She put her hand against her bleeding wound for a moment, staring incredulously at the unmarred chest of Hus. “Giles, these guys - they don’t die!”

That made things significantly more difficult.

“Bit busy over here!” He struggled with the man in the hall who had a chokehold around his neck, and managed to whack the guy’s head over his shoulder with his hatchet, twisting around to hit him again while he had the upper hand.

As Hus came after her again, Xander suddenly fell back through the front door, his own attacker landing on top of him, and as Buffy briefly managed to trap Hus against the wall with a chair, she inwardly groaned at the battle going on around her. They were merely holding off the inevitable, at this point, and if they couldn't figure out how to get rid of these guys soon then the inevitable was gonna happen very quickly.

“Well, well, look at this.” An amused London accent drawled from the front door, and Buffy groaned aloud at it. Spike. Just what they needed right now. “Dinner  _ and _ a show.”

“Spike!” Xander yelped after he’d been kicked into the little seat by the door, but couldn’t stare at the vampire for too long as he had to continue fending off the spirit-man trying to slice his neck open. “Guys! Spike!”

“He can’t-!” Buffy grunted as Hus got a grip on the chair and shoved it and her away, freeing himself. “- get in!”

“Oh, I’ll just wait.” Spike grinned. “Looks like these guys are gonna do all the hard work for me.” Just then, an arrow zipped through the air and landed in the door frame near his head. “Oi!” He gaped in amazement at the Native American that stood across by the fireplace, reloading his bow. “Watch it!”

Buffy and Hus both scrambled for their knives they’d lost during their tussle, and after trading a few quick thrusts and slashes, she finally managed to knick the side of his arm. He winced and in that second she planted the heel of her boot against his sternum, kicking him further away from her and giving herself space to move.

They both realized at the same time that he was bleeding, and Buffy looked down at the knife in her hands to realize that she was holding the ancient Chumash one.

“Your own knife can kill you.” She breathed, and for the first time Hus looked scared for a moment.

But just for a moment.

Buffy stared at where Hus had stood before her a second ago, now replaced by a not-so-small black bear that sounded very angry.

“A- a  _ bear _ !” Spike exclaimed from the doorway, surprisingly sounding a little concerned, himself. “You made a bear!”

“I didn’t mean to!” She protested meekly, not really focused on the vampire right now. He didn’t seem bothered about joining in on the fray, even with Xander so near within reaching distance and Willow and Anya presumably still outside. Maybe the rumors about him being impotent were true.

“Undo it! Undo it!” He ordered incredulously. “I want to kill  _ you _ , you ninny, not worry about having to kill the bear that killed you!” Then he grumbled to himself, “How the bloody hell do I kill a bear?”

The bear roared and swiped its massive paw at Buffy, which she managed to dodge a couple of times as she tried to eye where she could get a hit in with the short knife in her hands.

“Finally!” Spike laughed as he watched. “I get my revenge and I don’t even have to lift a finger! Would’ve liked to kill ya myself, but no matter. Kind of hard to do right now anyway.” He briefly tapped the side of his skull with a grimacing smile. “Reckon I can drink somebody that’s already dead though. Takes care of the whole invite spell, too.” He rocked up on his toes as he tucked his hands into his pockets, practically beaming as he simply waited outside the opened doorway. No one was really paying attention to him, but he was enjoying his moment.

Then just around the side of the bear, Buffy saw one of the Chumash slam Giles’ head against the wall once, twice, and in her concerned distraction the bear caught her, its hit landing and throwing her over the back of the couch and onto the living room floor. It roared angrily again, and Xander shouted,

“Hey Gentle Ben, over here!” He chucked one of the uncooked potatoes at it, distracting it as Buffy got back to her feet, and it turned around to face him like it was confused to be attacked by a starchy vegetable. “That’s for giving me syphilis!”

The Chumash that Giles had first hit was back up again, bow in hand, and fired at Xander, but with a combination of his own confusion and Xander’s quick response, he ducked and the arrow went flying over his head. Xander spun around, terrified that Willow or Anya had been put in the firing line, and froze and gaped as he saw Spike standing there, the arrow sticking out of his chest.

“You’ve _got_ to be _bloody_ _kidding me_ \- ” His disgust was cut off by the death cries of his vampiric demon-self dissolving into the night.

Buffy meanwhile quickly climbed onto the back of the couch and reached around to thrust the knife into the bear’s heart, stumbling back from it as it growled out in pain. The beast then drifted back into the shape of a man before dissipating into a cloud of green smoke.

Xander and Buffy stared at one another, breathless and wide-eyed, as the other two Chumash in the apartment also disappeared. As insane as the fight had become, suddenly it was over, just like that…. Willow and Anya slowly lowered their shovels, and Giles carefully pushed himself to his feet, stumbling against the wall a bit.

“D-did you hear someone else at the door?” Giles wondered muzzily, squinting without his glasses, unable to see the pile of dust out his front doorstep. He drifted over toward the end of the dining table, leaning his hand on the back of one of the chairs he and Buffy had used for makeshift cover earlier, and Buffy quickly drew closer to him.

“Nope!” Xander gave the other two girls a hurried look, and Willow quietly closed the front door.

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked Giles softly, carefully carding her fingers through his hair on the side of his head, feeling for lumps. He slid his hand against her right arm, his thumb near the slice on her shirt that was stained with blood. His brow furrowed, then, and he tilted his head away from her touch as he reached up with his other hand to draw her left arm down, so he could look at the puncture wound from the arrow.

“Are you?” He returned, and then slid his hands down to hers to tug her gently toward the bathroom with him. “You lot, um, clean up a bit, finish setting the table, w-while I patch these up.”

“I’m starving.” Anya commented.

“Let’s let Mom and Dad take care of each other,” Xander quipped, gesturing his head toward the discarded stack of plates as he righted an overturned chair.

As Giles set out the first-aid box on the edge of the sink and pulled out the liquid stitches and gauze, Buffy grabbed the ice pack and began to work it in her hands to activate the stuff inside.

“I’d use a needle, but it’s probably not advisable considering my current state…” Giles admitted apologetically, and Buffy gently shook her head as she carefully shrugged out of her shirt.

“Those will be fine.” She assured him, sitting on the edge of the tub, leaving enough room for him to sit next to her. She rested her left arm atop his thigh as he tended to the arrow wound, and with her other hand carefully held the ice pack against the side of his head for him.

He sighed quietly, a noise of relief as he nuzzled his head a little against her touch, and rubbed his thumb against her unmarred skin near the wound. She knew that the hit had scared him; she’d heard it in the way he’d cried out her name, and seen it in his eyes before he’d hidden it and focused on stopping the flow of blood.

“Just a flesh wound, Giles.” She murmured, wishing she had a hand free to smooth the furrow of his brow.

“I know.” He mumbled. “And I knew that then, I just- …” He stopped for a moment, brushing the little applicator of the liquid bandage over her skin. She sucked in a breath at the brief sting for a moment, but managed to keep still.

“I thought we’ve been over this.” She said softly but firmly. “Caring doesn’t make you a bad Watcher, Giles. It makes you the best Watcher.”

“I could have- ”

“You weren’t a distraction.” She interrupted him, knowing what he was about to say. “You did a little field dressing while I took stock of the situation and together we managed to hold them off until the others arrived. You were the exact opposite of a problem, Giles.”

“There was a moment… when I heard you yell, before I fully turned around, I thought…”

“The worst?” Buffy guessed, raising her eyebrow a bit, and he nodded quietly as he finished patching up her forearm. “I had one of those, too.” She quirked her eyebrow even higher. “When he cracked your skull against the wall?”

“It wasn’t actually all that hard,” Giles appeased her, sliding the pads of his fingers down to her knuckles. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s what worries me.” She remarked dryly. He gave her a little rueful smile, and then gestured his chin at her opposite shoulder.

“Turn toward me so I can take a look at that cut.”

“It wasn’t as deep; it’ll probably be gone by morning.” She told him, but she turned anyway so he could get the visual confirmation he needed. He pressed his thumb against the muscle beneath the cut and when no fresh blood oozed out, he nodded and closed up the little bottle in his hand. “How are you?” She asked as she watched him closely. “Still dizzy?”

“Not so much.” He assured her, giving her a warmer smile before shifting back to his feet and returning the stitches to the first aid kit. “That will pass, though, and no serious symptoms. A few tylenol with my dinner and I’ll be fine.”

As she stood as well, the ice pack still in her hand, he returned the box beneath the sink and turned to face her, smiling a little more suggestively as he slipped his hands around her bare waist.

“Maybe a kiss or two wouldn’t hurt.” He reasoned innocently, and she snorted, but rose up on her toes to meet him as he leaned down to kiss her warmly. When his hands began to meander around her back, she wriggled out of his grasp, giggling softly.

As he playfully tried to keep a hold of her, she grabbed the front of his waistband and tugged it out to stuff the ice pack down his pants, dancing away from him as he yelped and stumbled back.

“Buffy!” He cried out, wincing and shifting his hips as he fumblingly tried to yank the cold package away from his sensitive bits.

“I told you,” She laughed as she pulled her shirt back on, careful of the ‘bandages’ he’d applied, “I’m going to have a nice, quiet,  _ civilized _ dinner.” She pointed her finger at him as she quickly slipped around him and to the door while he was still tugging the ice pack out of his pants. “Civilized does not mean fondling in the bathroom while our friends are waiting for us in the living room.”

He just stared at her, affronted, as she giggled again and slipped out of the bathroom to join the others.

**... ... ...**

“I feel lousy.” Willow murmured apologetically.

“Well the turkey came out rather splendidly,” Giles complimented around a bite of food.

“Oh, it was yummy!” Willow agreed, looking toward Buffy to make sure she could see her earnestness. Then she said, “It’s just… did you see me? Two seconds of conflict with an indeginous person, and I turned into General Custer.”

“Violence does that. Instinct takes over.” Giles attempted to comfort her.

“Family gathering… a little bit of miscommunication and arguing, a brief siege, some drawn blood, all wrapped up at the end with a tasty meal ‘round the table. Yep! This was a real Thanksgiving.” Xander announced happily as he finished off his pie.

“G-good work, Buffy… on both counts.” Giles praised from across the table, and they smiled shyly at one another.

“Thanks.” She murmured, a little embarrassed by how pleased that actually made her feel. Not just a job well done from her Watcher after a battle, but all her friends seated around her at the table as well, happily full bellies after dinner and pie.

“Well, you know, you should be very pleased.” He softly encouraged, seeming to know how she felt.

“Wasn’t exactly a perfect Thanksgiving,” She admitted, and Xander tilted his head to the side a little.

“And I reiterate…” He pointed out his last statement, smiling warmly at Buffy, and she relaxed, trusting that he had really meant it.

“And we did all survive.” Giles added with a small, kind of loopy chuckle, and Buffy hesitantly smiled back. He was definitely a bit concussed.

“I guess that much is true.” Her smile was genuine now. “Our first Thanksgiving as a Scooby Family and we all got through it.”

“And you know what?” Xander drew his arm around Anya’s shoulders, his smile turning into a cheeky grin. “I think my syphilis is clearing right up.”

“And they say romance is dead.” Buffy drawled. “Or maybe they just wish it.” She grinned across the table at Giles, who was watching her with that twinkling pride in his eyes.

“Well, maybe we started a new tradition this year!” Willow said excitedly, and Buffy gave her a hesitant look. “Well, maybe not exactly… at least we all worked together! It was like old times.”

“Eventually, yeah,” Buffy agreed, gently poignant, and Willow winced a little and glanced toward Giles.

“Sorry I called you unfeeling guy.” She murmured.

“I apologize for my temper as well,” He returned softly. “Buffy made a point, earlier, that I think wasn’t so far off the mark - it seems we weren’t quite ourselves.”

“I still wish there could’ve been another way…” Willow sighed, but then turned her apologetic look to Xander. “Sorry I made it seem like I didn’t care about your syphilis.”

“Apology accepted.” Xander replied promptly. “Now, can this be the very last time we use ‘Xander’ and ‘syphilis’ in the same sentence ever again?” He gave Willow one of his lopsided grins, to show that he really wasn’t frustrated anymore, and then stood and gathered up his and Anya’s dishware. “C’mon, An, help out with the washing. The sooner we get this finished, the sooner we can head back to my place and- ” He stopped himself and glanced toward Giles. “Uh, sleep off the inevitable turkey-coma.”

“Turkey-coma?” Anya frowned as she followed after him to the kitchen. “Is that a real disease? Or another one of your Xander-isms?”

Giles sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, hiding his amused smile, and Willow shared a grin with Buffy as she stood as well.

“Speaking of resting, concussion-guy,” Willow pointed toward the couch before gathering up her own dishes. “We all know how that works. Go lie down for a bit.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” He argued, getting to his feet, but Willow picked up his empty plate before he could, and gave him her patented resolve-face.

“Mom and Dad cooked,” She glanced toward Buffy with a cheeky grin, “the kids’ll clean up.”

“You guys.” Buffy groaned at the teasing, not totally annoyed with it, but embarrassed. Valiantly trying to act otherwise however, she nodded at Giles and then at the couch, “She has a point though.” He made the appropriate grumbling noises at being coddled, but shuffled around the couch as Buffy helped Willow carry dishes into the kitchen.

“Aw, this is cute,” Willow smiled softly, looking at something on the wall beside Giles’ phone. Buffy glanced over from the counter to see what she was talking about. “How long has this been here?”

Buffy had no idea; she’d never really paid close attention to the frame before. Most of Giles’ artwork on his walls were old paintings or museum-looking pieces. This was a photograph though, hung where Giles would see it every day, right next to where he often prepared his tea.

“I think Mom took this picture,” Buffy mused, stepping closer, unable to keep herself from smiling as she looked at it. “It’s from the summer.” She heard Xander and Anya pause for a moment as well, peering over.

She and Giles were sitting on the couch together, one of the rare times they were  _ both _ reading. Giles was leaning against the arm of the couch with his book on his knee, and Buffy was stretched out next to him, using his body as a pillow and her own book propped up on her stomach. His arm was loosely draped around her between her breasts and the book, and her fingers were resting against it as if she’d been stroking his skin (she had, she remembered).

She’d been embarrassed at first, after hearing the click of the camera shutter and looking up to realize her mom had caught them cuddling, but Joyce had only smiled and winked before disappearing again. Buffy wondered how Giles had acquired the picture; had he asked for it, or had Joyce surprised him with it?

“Is it weird, that your mother is okay about the two of you?” Anya wondered, resuming her task at the sink of scrubbing off the heavier soiled dishes.

“It’s…” Buffy paused, considering how to explain it. “She’s been pretty understanding, which definitely surprised me at first. I mean, she did fuss for a while when she first found out I liked him, but, I think the whole ‘defender of the world’, Watcher-Slayer thing helped a lot. And the fact we had a talk with her fairly early on. She uh, doesn’t know, um, that we’re…”

“Sleeping together?” Willow guessed at the slight flush on Buffy’s face, as Xander hurriedly elbowed Anya the moment she’d opened her mouth. The ex-demon narrowed her eyes at him, closed her mouth, and elbowed him back, making him wince.

“Not that she expected us to wait forever, back to the whole ‘defender of the world’ thing, but I think… she’d mentioned once that she wished we would just, uh, ‘court’ for a while.”

“ _ Court _ ?” Willow snorted. “Frankly, I’m amazed you waited as long as you did.” Buffy frowned indignantly, and she giggled, and then pushed Buffy out of the kitchen. “Go on, shoo. You’ve been running around like crazy these last couple days - don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

“So it really wasn’t too bad?” Buffy checked hesitantly, and Willow gave her a warm hug.

“I might start celebrating Thanksgiving after all.” She teased, winking as they parted.

Giles’ eyes were already closed, his shoes kicked off and his legs stretched out along the couch. Buffy watched him with amusement for a moment, before reaching over him and tugging an arrow out of the cushion.

“Wha- ” He startled, his eyes popping open, but Buffy only smiled at him as she toed her own shoes off and dropped the arrow onto the coffee table before climbing over him to nestle herself between his body and the back of the couch. He shifted immediately, relaxing and wrapping his arms around her once they were both comfortable.

She turned her head so her ear was pressed against his chest, listening to him breathe and the beat of his heart as it slowed into sleep. She could also hear the soft clattering of dishes and murmuring of her best friends in the kitchen, and she decided that maybe the day ended up being pretty darn close to perfect in its own way.


	25. Chapter 24 (Doomed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Scoobies work together to stop the apocalypse (again), Riley's purpose is established... perhaps.

* * *

“Riley!” Buffy was surprised to find him standing in the hall outside of her dorm room. He shuffled his feet and offered her a nervous smile.

“Hey, Buffy.” He greeted softly, not quite meeting her eyes directly for very long.

“Um… come in?” She offered hesitantly, stepping to the side, and he ducked his head in thanks as he stepped by her and sat gingerly on the edge of Willow’s bed. Buffy sat on her own, across from him, taking in the way he sat there a little slumped, fiddling his fingers together.

“I guess we have to talk.” Riley eventually announced gravely.

“I guess we do.” Buffy agreed. Not wanting to be the one to start the conversation, she kept quiet though. She wanted to see where he would lead things.

They sat across from one another in incredibly awkward silence for a minute.

“Somebody should speak before one of us graduates.” She joked lightly. This was nerve-wracking; she had to be honest enough with him to keep his friendship, but not so honest that he possibly arrested her or whatever it was he was allowed to do as a soldier-man. She also didn’t want to encourage his romantic affections but neither rebuff him entirely that he never wanted to talk to her again.

Of course, at this rate, ‘never talking again’ was feeling more and more likely…

He got to his feet and paced for a moment, obviously anxious himself, before finally turning toward her and asking,

“What are you?”

“Capricorn, on the cusp of Aquarius. You?” She sassed, narrowing her eyes a little in annoyance at the rudeness of his question.

“Sorry.” He winced. “Came out a little blunter than I intended.” He paced back toward Willow’s bed, to face her again. “It’s just, you’re amazing. Your speed, your strength- ”

“Also passionate, artistic, and inquisitive.” She continued to sass, not appreciating the way it sounded like he was profiling her for some index. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” He insisted, and then sighed as he tucked his hands into his back pockets. “The rest, what I do… I can’t tell you.”

“Well then, let me.” She decided, standing as well. “You’re part of some military monster squad that captures demons, vampires… probably have some official-sounding euphemisms for them, like… ‘unfriendlies’, or ‘non-sapiens’.”

“Hostile sub-terrestrials.” He admitted, sounding surprised by what she knew.

“So you deliver these… ‘HST’s to a bunch of lab coats who… perform experiments on them? Which turn some into harmless little bunnies?”

She and Giles had come up with most of their theory after considering the rumors surrounding Spike, and how he’d mentioned being unable to drink from any of the gang until after they had been killed by the Chumash spirits.

“How am I doing so far?” She folded her arms across her chest, and Riley blinked at her.

“A little too well.”

“And meanwhile, by day, you pretend to be Riley Finn, corn-fed Iowa boy.” She stared at him directly, and he avoided her gaze. “Ever been to Iowa, Riley? If that’s even your name.”

“It is.” He insisted. “Born and raised.” Other than his shock at her knowledge of the Initiative, his heartbeat sounded calm and steady. He wasn’t lying - or, he was damn good at it. “And hey, bulletin: I’m not the only one who’s been a little less than honest here.”

“I thought a professional demon-chaser like yourself would have figured it out by now.” Buffy sighed and slowly sat back down. Giles had advised her to tell Riley the basics, but she still wasn’t entirely confident on which way this was gonna go.

If Riley tried to take her in, she could easily best him no question, but she really didn’t want to have a whole military organization out for her blood.

“I’m The Slayer.” She told him, watching closely for his reaction. Oddly, there was none. At all. “Slay-er. Chosen One.” He furrowed his brow, totally lost, and she stared at him in surprise. “She who hangs out a lot in cemeteries?” He blinked, and she grumbled, “You’re kidding.”

She huffed and got to her feet, pacing toward her bedside table as she considered this. Riley had clearly never heard of The Slayer before, but had the Initiative? She could use him to figure out what they already knew, or what they would be willing to tell him in any case.

“Ask around. Slayer, comma, _The_.”

“And you fight demons? I mean, you wailed on those guys that took everybody’s voices!” He was impressed, and it was kind of nice, in the way it always was nice to be recognized for her talents.

“You did pretty well yourself.” She returned awkwardly.

“Yeah, but I’m still a walking bruise, days later. You see me with my clothes off, I look like a- ” He cut himself off when she raised an eyebrow at him, and mumbled, “I mean, I have bruises…” He glanced away in embarrassment for a moment but then gestured toward her pointedly, his curiosity taking the forefront again, “I don’t see a scratch on you.”

“Like I said, Slayer.” She shrugged a shoulder. He stared at her for a long moment, then ducked his head again almost in acceptance, though his expression was obviously still perplexed as he paced away from her again.

“So then… uh… what do we do?” He wondered, looking lost.

“I think we both need a little time to… process everything.” She suggested lightly. She’d already done her processing, but he needed to.

“Yeah.” He sighed in agreement, slowly straightening as he accepted the idea. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” She gave him a careful smile, and he returned it before heading for the door. “Oh,” He hesitated, and half-turned back toward her, “I don’t think I need to tell you,”

“I won’t say a word.” She assured him. Not to anybody but Giles, anyway.

“Good. It’ll be safer for all- ”

Amy-the-rat started squeaking like she was in a panic, suddenly, interrupting him, and they both focused on the cage in bewilderment.

Then the room started shaking, to the point that the loose items on her desk and on Willow’s began falling over, and Riley pulled her toward the doorway of her closet where they could wait out the earthquake.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but it had been a deep one that she’d felt in her bones. Riley was grinning as he cautiously stepped back out into her room, though.

“Wow, that was some ride!”

Buffy ignored him, stepping slowly toward her bedroom window. Something was making her spidey-senses go haywire, and she couldn’t help but consider the last earthquake she’d experienced.

“Sorry I’m so excited,” Riley seemed to notice her discomfort, “My first earthquake!”

“It’s not mine.” She replied gravely.

**... ... ...**

He was sitting outside at the table in the courtyard when she arrived.

“Something horrible’s gonna happen, Giles.” She announced without greeting, and he hardly looked up from the map he was fiddling with.

“It was an earthquake, Buffy.” He soothed her distractedly, entirely calm and the exact opposite of how she was feeling. “A not uncommon occurrence in Southern California. No reason to think it was anything more.”

“Oh, I so have a reason. A darn good reason.” She insisted as her anxious pacing brought her close to the table again. “The last time we had an earthquake, I died.”

“Yes, I know that,” He winced a little and paused what he was doing, looking up to meet her eyes apologetically. “And therefore, I completely understand your anxiety,”

“Oh, good. ‘Cause I’d hate for my little untimely horrible-death-concern to be ambiguous.” She snarked, plopping down onto the bench across from him.

“But unless evidence suggests otherwise,” Giles continued, still trying to calm her down with the tone of his voice, “I think we can assume that it’s shifting land masses and not a portent of some imminent doom.” When she was quiet for a moment, he turned back toward his posterboard and lifted it so she could see, “In the meantime, I’ve got a few theories about our Initiative friends. Based on the locations of our various sightings, and knowing your Mr. Riley is involved,”

“What if the quake was a sign?” Buffy worried, interrupting him and hopping to her feet again. She didn’t like his phrasing there, even if he hadn’t meant it romantically. Riley wasn’t _her_ anything. “A bad omen? And we just ignore it?” He slowly turned his head to look at her. “There’s gonna be a lot of red faces when the world comes to an end.”

“Buffy.” He stood as well, and put his hands on her shoulders. “If the quake heralded some such catastrophe, then I am sure there will be other signs to follow, which will afford us plenty of time to avert it. Now,” He gently let her go and turned back toward the table, leaning a hand on the edge as he pointed toward the pins he’d placed into the posterboard. “I believe their commando installation is either very close to or directly underneath your school. If that is the case, then I’m fully convinced more are in your midst than just your psychology teacher and her assistant.”

“Plague!” She blurted. She didn’t want to talk about Riley or the Initiative with him right now. She was too rankled by Riley’s obvious fascination with her, and by the earthquake as well.

“What?” He turned back toward her, bewildered.

“What if the end of the world is coming in the form of a plague? Then too many people may become infected by the time we actually decide to- ”

“Buffy, will you stop worrying about what may _be_ and concentrate on what _is_? Vigilance is all very well and good- ”

“Using my own words against me now, huh?” Buffy huffed, folded her arms across her chest, and he looked lost again for a second before he blushed and tugged his glasses off of his face, rubbing his eyes for a moment. “Riley isn’t _mine_ ,” She poked her finger against his sternum, startling him, and he stared at her. “I know you didn’t mean it like that but I don’t ever wanna hear that out of your mouth again.”

“I- eh, I’m sorry Buffy - it’s just a turn of phrase,”

“I know that.” She assured him. “But I don’t like it, okay? This thing is very quickly reaching the highly complicated stage and I gotta- I have to tell him the truth.”

“I thought we agreed that you would?” Giles frowned in confusion, sliding his glasses back onto his nose.

“ _That_ truth I did, earlier - right before the earthquake, actually.” She frowned. “He didn’t know who I was, Giles. The Slayer!”

“You wish that he had?” Giles quirked his eyebrow slightly. “It might not necessarily be a good sign if The Slayer is already on the Initiative’s radar, Buffy.”

“Well, yeah, I know that…” She pouted a little. “But he’s supposed to be some professional demon hunter, right? And he’s never heard of me?”

“Do you wonder if that’s representative of the rest of his commandos?” Giles wondered thoughtfully.

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “But I told him to ask around, and look it up. Whatever information he comes back with, I’m gonna guess it’s what the rest of them know.”

“On the assumption they aren’t keeping anything from him.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, a little bit awkwardly, and Giles sighed and gathered her in his arms again, giving her a warm hug. There was an apology, and comfort, in it, so Buffy hugged him back even if she was still a little annoyed that he wasn’t taking the earthquake as seriously as she was.

“I have to tell him about us, Giles.” She eventually murmured, and his hand that had begun to slowly stroke her back now stilled. “He’s seriously interested in me, and I think he wants to go out with me even knowing we’d been lying to each other before about who we were. I can’t lead him on like that, it’s not fair to him.”

“He’s… a stranger,” Giles frowned, and she could feel him tense up a bit, and she remembered what her mom had said to him about caring what strangers thought of them.

“He’s not a total stranger to me,” Buffy assured him softly, “and his opinion on _us_ doesn’t matter to me. All I want is to make sure he’ll still be willing to talk to me… maybe even be my friend, at least until we figure more out about the Initiative and their real intentions.”

“W-well,” Giles pulled back enough to look her in the eyes, “he’s your friend… more or less. It’s your decision. I won’t lie; it would be nice knowing the lad will perhaps step back his romantic advances. I can’t fault a man for having a crush on you,” He gave her a little smile, “but it’s high-time he knew you’re a taken woman.”

“Jealous.” Buffy teased, and he quirked his eyebrow. She danced her fingers against his chest and up to the collar of his shirt. “Taken, huh? How about some present-tense taking?” His smile widened as his eyes dropped to her lips.

“That could be arranged,” He murmured, leaning in again to brush his mouth over hers. They kissed softly for a moment, brushing touches that soothed her much more than his tone had earlier, but just as it started to become more heated, Buffy remembered her promise to Willow.

“I- I promised Willow I’d go to this party with her.” Buffy winced apologetically as she leaned back within his embrace, running her fingers down the front of his button-up. “After-shock party, or whatever. College students can come up with _any_ excuse to throw a party - really, it’s kind of impressive.”

“I promise, I’ll keep my eye out for any other possible signs in addition to the earthquake, Buffy.” Giles assured her, brushing his fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I just don’t think it will do to worry so much about something that hasn’t actually happened.”

“Finally learned that, did we?” She quipped lightly, and he gave her a look, before leaning down to kiss her once more. She returned it happily for a moment, but then gently used her hand on his chest to push him back, and feigned a gasp. “Mr. Giles! What will the neighbors think?” She whispered as if she were scandalized.

“My flat isn’t exactly sound-proof, Buffy,” He rolled his eyes, slipping out of her grasp to gather up his newspapers and his map. “They keep to themselves, thankfully.” He made a perturbed face for a moment as he glanced around the otherwise quiet courtyard. “Honestly, the worst they likely think is that I’m running some sort of fight-club out of my home,”

She laughed at that, and he smiled as he looked at her. She stuck her tongue out at him then, knowing he was feeling pleased with himself for having calmed her anxiousness.

“See you later, Watcher-mine.” She turned toward the steps that led out toward the sidewalk, as he headed for his apartment door.

“Tell Willow I said hello,” He requested, and waited for her to glance back and nod her confirmation before he added in a low murmur, “Slayer-mine.”

His adoration, maybe even a smidge of desire, was obvious in the tone he’d used, and Buffy’s grin widened as she beamed at him before skipping up the steps.

Her Slayer senses weren’t wigging out any more. Maybe he was right, and the earthquake was just an earthquake…

**... ... ...**

Buffy slowly walked around police officers and coroner attendants as she scanned the room for any familiar faces. She recognized a few other students from her classes, but no red-headed witchy gal yet…

“Buffy! Over here.” Willow’s voice called out from behind her, and Buffy turned around to find her sitting on the edge of the steps.

“Wow… I wasn’t sure where the party was, then I saw the flashing lights and the ambulance and I was like, ‘Right, of course. Death, carnage - it’s a Buffy party’.” Buffy mused with discomfort as she sat beside her friend.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Willow looked really troubled, which worried Buffy even more. After everything they’ve been through, it took a lot to trouble even Willow, like this.

“What happened?” Buffy took her hand.

“I found him.” She admitted. “This guy, on the bed with me - dead.” She swallowed deeply, frowning. “Not me dead, he dead.”

“Figured as much…” Buffy gently joked. She squeezed Willow’s hand comfortingly. “Are you okay?” Willow nodded, though shakily, and Buffy glanced around before whispering, “Vampire?”

“So much blood,” Willow shook her head in the negative. “A-and there- there was this symbol. And Percy said I was a nerd!”

“Percy called you a nerd?” Buffy demanded, and Willow nodded again, though quickly sobered once more.

“…I guess we should report to Giles? Get with the demon-tracking?” Willow figured, and Buffy nodded, putting her arm around her friend as they stood together and headed out of the dormitory.

“Does Percy even go here?” Buffy wondered in confusion.

“Sorry I interrupted your smoochy time.” Willow mumbled, kicking a rock off of the sidewalk.

“What? You didn’t! We weren’t!” Buffy insisted defensively, and Willow glanced at her briefly, raising her eyebrow. “We weren’t, much.” Buffy added, lowering her voice to a mumble as well, before then pointing out, “I promised you I’d come to this party with you. I’m sorry I was late… but I really was planning on coming to join you. We’d be partying up a storm if it wasn’t for dead guy!”

“Story of our lives.” Willow sighed heavily. They walked on in silence as they headed for the pizza place first; since Xander’s shift would be ending soon, they could pick him up on the way.

Even had a serious research session not been necessary, Willow was pretty rankled, so a Scooby session was definitely just what the doctor ordered.

**... ... ...**

“It just made me feel like I was right back in high school.” Willow sat at Giles’ desk as they all stood gathered around her, supportive.

“Dumb jock. If it wasn’t for you, _he_ still would be.” Xander huffed.

“Yeah. I mean, I know the Percy thing isn’t really important. It’s the dead guy on the bed.” Willow noted.

“Yeah, that’s bad too.” Xander added supportively.

“Oh - and something else!” Willow remembered, looking up at Buffy. “He - the dead guy - was propped up, like whatever killed him wanted to drain the blood out of him.” She grimaced, and Buffy frowned and shared a look with Giles, who looked just as concerned. He tugged his glasses off, which Buffy knew wasn’t a good sign, and she took a deep breath. “So I’m thinking, the-whatever took a bunch of the guy’s blood with him. And… I haven’t been a nerd for a very long time! Hello? Dating a guitarist! And a werewolf! I mean- not two separate- I’m not a- they’re the same- well, you guys know they’re the same…”

“Tell them about the symbol.” Buffy gently urged her back on track, touching her shoulder to halt her rambling.

“Right. Um,” Willow dug a bunched up napkin out of her pocket, unfolding it to show the guys, “It was carved into his chest, like a big, creepy eye.”

Giles took the napkin from her and put his glasses back on to look at it, Xander looking over his shoulder.

“It’s kind of the CBS logo.” Xander commented. “Hey, could this be the handiwork of one Mr. Morley Safer?” Giles rolled his eyes at him and stepped away from him as he pondered over Willow’s sketch.

“I’m telling you, I’ve seen this somewhere before. I just can’t remember where. I mean, it’s like…”

“It’s the end of the world.” Giles interrupted Buffy primly, pulling his glasses off his face again as he slowly paced across the room.

“Again?” All three demanded at the same time.

“The earthquake, that symbol, it’s… um…” Giles trailed off and scratched his forehead, avoiding looking in Buffy’s direction specifically, and she pointed her finger at him.

“I told you!” She accused him. “I said end of the world! And you’re like, ‘pooh-pooh, Southern California, pooh-pooh’!”

“I’m so very sorry. My contrition completely dwarfs the impending apocalypse.” He replied sarcastically, and Buffy gave him a dry look.

“No, i-i-it can’t be.” Willow protested. “We- we’ve done this already.”

“It’s the end of the world. Everyone dies. It’s rather important, really.”

“So what do we do?” Willow asked.

“I stop it.” Buffy said firmly, grabbing Giles’ crossbow from the coat rack by the door.

“Where are you going?” He asked quickly, worried.

“The usual,” She replied, slinging the crossbow strap over her shoulder. “I know I’ve seen that symbol before. If I can find it again, maybe I can figure out how this all connects.”

He nodded, his eyes silently telling her to be careful even as his expression otherwise held the confidence of her Watcher. Buffy sent him a small nod in understanding, and then left the Scoobies to their research.

**... ... ...**

Her hunch was right.

“I wonder where I’ve seen this before.” Buffy sighed as she looked at the etching in the stone in front of her. “Where else? The place I spend most of my waking hours, memorizing stuff off the sides of mausoleums. Big, freaky, cereal boxes of death.” She muttered.

Noises came from inside the building, and Buffy reaffirmed her grip on the crossbow as she entered cautiously. A demon dressed in rags was taking bones out of a child’s coffin and putting them in a satchel. Buffy grimaced, but then rolled her shoulders back and squared her feet.

“Door was open.” She called out, getting the demon’s attention, and as it turned to face her and roared threateningly, she wasted no time before burying an arrow into its chest.

Hurt but not taken down, they traded blows for a while until she could kick it out of the mausoleum and give herself some more space for her more powerful kicks. Unfortunately, very little seemed to faze this thing, and when it threw her back on top of a gravestone, she had to take a moment to catch her breath as she rolled to the ground on the other side of it.

She heard its footsteps rush off, and she groaned as she prepared herself to chase after it. She could have handled that fight better, perhaps. She was off her game. Maybe she wasn’t getting enough sleep at night…

Another set of footsteps approached her from somewhere above her head, and she gathered herself to flip up onto her feet and face the new intruder, swinging her fist.

“Wow!” It was Riley, just managing to block her with his forearm. “That flippy thing that you did -”

“Where did it go?” Buffy glanced around them, hearing nothing other than Riley’s quiet grimace as he rubbed at his arm.

“It’s gone. I saw it take off toward the woods.” He gestured behind her, and she gave him an incredulous look.

“And you didn’t follow it?”

“No weapons, no backup.” He answered calmly. “You don’t go after a demon that size by yourself.”

“I do.” She informed him, once again annoyed. Whether it was Riley or someone else - the Initiative was far too often getting in her way.

“Yeah, well, I’m no Slayer.” Riley grinned, and Buffy figured he knew a little something more about her now than he had before. She hesitated, wanting to hear what he’d discovered. He tugged a walkie-talkie out of his back pocket and spoke into it all official-like, “Base One, this is Lilac One.”

“ _Lilac_?” Buffy repeated with a bit of amusement. He held a finger up as he waited for a response from the walkie, and once he got it continued,

“Confirmed sighting of an unidentified sub-t. Mobilize patrol team for debriefing at 0800 hours.” He received a ‘copy that’ and then tucked the walkie back away, and Buffy leaned against the headstone as she rolled her shoulders a little and heard her spine pop. Ah, that felt better.

“Very commandery.” She mused, raising her eyebrow. “‘Lilac’ notwithstanding.” He just chuckled again, and Buffy furrowed her brow at him and his lack of Initiative gear. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, ‘she who hangs out in cemeteries’.” The warm look in his eyes was not exactly comforting to her, and she slowly straightened again.

“Well, I have to get the demon.”

“Don’t sweat it,” He stepped closer, to a more friendly distance. “We’ll bag it.”

“It’s not that simple.” She frowned again. These guys were way in over their heads, and they had no idea.

“Yeah, but- ”

“Riley. I just… I can’t.”

“Can’t talk?” He asked, and she pursed her lips.

“I can’t be with you. Not like you want me to.” He frowned and opened his mouth to no doubt ask why, and she figured she might as well get it out of the way here and now, “I’m with someone.”

“What? Who?” He sounded incredulous, even a little dubious, and Buffy didn’t blame him. It’s not as if he ever saw her with anyone, or heard her talking about a boyfriend. Conversations about Giles had always happened in private, always with just the Scoobies. Riley glanced around, as if he suspected she might have been speaking literally.

“Rupert,” Buffy grinned for a second, but then stopped. _‘Rupert’_?! Maybe that demon had hit her head harder than she thought.

“ _Rupert_?” Riley scowled. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

“Says the guy with the girly name!” Buffy huffed, but then quickly corrected herself, “He goes by Giles, mostly. I call him Giles. I don’t know why- ” She grimaced and rubbed her head.

“His… last name?” Riley guessed, and she nodded. “You call your boyfriend by his last name?”

“I call him other things too.” Buffy pointed out defensively, babbling a little, “Like, dear, and- and lover, and- ”

“Alright.” Riley interrupted her, looking like he ate something sour.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“No, you are mad.” Buffy could see it, as much as he was trying to hide it.

“No, I am!” He admitted seriously. “I um… I really- ” He cut himself off and seemed at a loss for words, as he calmed himself down again. “Wow. Uh… who is this guy? Does he go to Sunnydale?”

“Oh, no.” Buffy chortled. “He’s totally old.”

“Old.” Riley repeated, and Buffy grimaced, once again alarmed with her sudden lack of filter.

“Well, not nearly as old as my last boyfriend was,”

“Okay.” Riley stopped her and closed his eyes for a moment, clearly overwhelmed. He looked like he didn’t want to ask, but he opened his eyes again and did anyway, “This wouldn’t happen to be that mentor you told me about before, would it?”

“Yeah!” Buffy brightened, and he had that sour look on his face again. “Though, I sort of fibbed then.” She admitted. “I mean yeah, he helped me with my SATs, but, he’s not my - well, he’s my friend, and… it’s kind of hard to explain.” She glanced around the cemetery, though of course they were still alone. “A _civilian_ wouldn’t understand.” She emphasized pointedly, and realization dawned on his face, along with some understanding. And then he looked incredulous again.

“You’re _dating_ your _commanding officer_?!”

“No, it’s not like that.” Buffy frowned. “I don’t have a commanding officer, I’m not a part of any military. He’s my… partner.”

“I…” Riley gave her a long look, puzzling over her. “It’s late.” He suddenly decided. “And I’m… I’m very tired now, so… I’m just gonna go far away, and be… away.”

“But- ” Buffy took a step after him.

“No. Stay.” He requested earnestly, before hesitantly walking off in the direction he’d come from. “Old?” He wondered to himself, perplexed.

They still seriously needed to talk about what exactly he knew about the Slayer, and she hoped his curiosity on that front would bring him back sooner rather than later.

But first, there was the matter of the apocalypse.

**... ... ...**

Buffy returned to Giles’ place after she spent the next few hours unable to find a trace of the demon. The gang were all gathered in the living room and eyebrow-deep into a pile of books on the coffee table.

“Anybody made tea, lately?” Buffy called out as she hung up the crossbow and her coat by the door.

“That would be lovely, yes…” Giles hummed distractedly, and Buffy fondly rolled her eyes as she headed for the kitchen, washing up carefully before messing with the teakettle.

Knowing Xander would be hungry soon enough, and feeling her usual post-slayage hunger herself, she also scrounged the cabinets and fridge for snacks as well.

“Oh yeah baby, now we’re talkin’!” Xander crowed as Buffy brought in a bowl of chips and a plate of Willow’s leftover apology-cookies she’d been baking for practically an entire day after the ‘I-will-it’ spell fiasco. “Now it’s a real Scooby shindig!”

“Mhm,” Buffy hummed distractedly as she set the plates down and then stuffed a cookie in her mouth as she meandered back toward the kitchen. She was a bit distracted by Riley’s rather uncertain response to her news, and also annoyed that the demon had gotten away from her.

Annoyed, and antsy. She paced across the kitchen floor as she waited for the water to boil.

“How was patrol?” Giles asked from the entry just behind her, and she jumped, having not heard him approach. His tone was knowing, and his eyes soft as she turned around to face him.

“Oddly enough, just one demon all night.” Buffy huffed tiredly and pushed her hair back from her face. “I think the vampires know something is happening… like the way rat-Amy freaked before the earthquake.”

“Was there much of a fight?” Giles wondered, noticing the way she was standing a little stiffly, and stepped closer to put his hands on her shoulders and guide her to turn back around, feeling out the knots in her muscles with familiarity and working them loose.

Buffy sighed in pleasure, immediately, and leaned a little more of her weight into his touch.

“Yeah, actually.” She admitted. “And he got away.” She grumbled under her breath in frustration, and Giles’ fingers twitched slightly before he resumed his massage. “I knew I’d seen that symbol somewhere. It was on the side of a mausoleum. Not sure what makes it so special, but the demon was gathering up the bones of a child.”

She shivered a little in revulsion, and he gave her shoulders a more comforting squeeze for a moment.

“Bones of a child, you say?” He hummed thoughtfully. “Can you describe the demon for me? This should help narrow down our search significantly.”

He continued to massage her neck, shoulders and back as well as he could while she was standing up, listening attentively to her description. He only took his hands off of her once the kettle started whistling, and she leaned heavily against the refrigerator as she watched him go through his tea-making process.

“Something else?” He murmured eventually, feeling the weight of her stare. She opened her mouth to reply with the automatic ‘nothing’, but then realized that wasn’t true. It wasn’t just nothing, because he wasn’t nothing.

“You.” She answered softly, and he blinked in confusion, though a tiny smile began to form on his lips.

“What about me?”

She didn’t answer immediately, simply widened her smile as he finished pouring the hot water on the tea bags and put the lid on the teapot, and he tilted his head curiously as he leaned his hip against the counter to face her.

“I love you.” She told him simply, though it wasn’t simple at all. His eyes immediately changed at her words, as they always did; the green growing lighter with happiness even as his pupils expanded a little, darker.

As tired as he’d looked a moment ago, now he almost seemed boyish.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, not that he didn’t believe her words, but out of concern for her, even as he reached out and drew her closer against him.

“Nothing… incapacitating,” She grinned, lowering her voice as she pressed against his front, shifting her leg between his and sliding her thigh against the front of his trousers. Corduroy, again, and by the way his eyes immediately darkened further, that friction still felt just as good.

She yearned, yearned for - well, honestly, to catch that demon that had gotten away and give it a piece of her mind. But that wasn’t possible in the moment, so her yearning took on a different flavor. She slid her hands beneath the bottom of his sweater and pressed her palms against his sides, around his back, soaking up the heat of his skin. He dropped his mouth to her neck, sucking a hard kiss against the curve just above her collarbone, where he knew it’d make her tremble and clutch him closer.

“You’re restless,” He whispered against her skin, scraping his teeth gently over the spot where her pulse raced. “Let me take care of you,” He carded one of his hands beneath her hair, running his blunt nails back and forth along her nape, and she arched closer against him, tightening her thighs around the leg she was straddling.

They were both pressing against one another, gently enough to quiet the soft rustling of their clothes, and his other hand drifted down to her ass and squeezed slowly, encouraging the pressure of her own leg against the growing bulge in his trousers.

“Giles!” She hissed suddenly, remembering the others in the living room, and shifted the lower half of their bodies away from each other. “This is _not_ the time to be horny and handsy.”

“We can be quiet,” He murmured, continuing to kiss her neck, and she snorted, sliding her hands back out from under his shirt and purposefully resting them on his hips.

“Not that quiet.” She drawled. “Come on, I’m used to ignoring the post-slayage hornies, anyway.” She gently shifted completely out of his space, and he pouted at her.

“You don’t have to, now, you know.” He pointed out. She raised her eyebrow at him, studiously ignoring her own flush she could feel on her skin from his attentions.

“This isn’t just a regular Scooby research date, you know. Did you forget about the impending apocalypse?”

“Oh. Right.” He realized, clarity slowly coming to his features again, and Buffy smirked as he blushed out of embarrassment now.

“I’m gonna go tell the others about the demon, okay? And let you… take a moment, to, you know,” She gestured vaguely in the direction of his crotch, and he grimaced and nodded. Buffy softened her smile and reached up to run her fingertips lightly along his cheekbone. “Remember the last time we stopped the end of the world?” She whispered, wriggling her eyebrows, and his shoulders lifted as he took a deep inward breath, quite obviously recalling their time between the fire trucks. “This time’s gonna be even better.” She promised him, drawing out of his reach, and he groaned quietly.

“Buffy,”

“We better get cracking on these books, Giles,” Buffy called out in a normal, albeit teasing voice as she rejoined the others in the living room. “The sooner we figure out this demon and what its purpose was, the sooner we can…” She trailed off into silence on purpose, smiling to herself as she heard him grumbling under his breath in another language.

“…Stop the apocalypse?” Xander wondered, and Buffy settled onto the other end of the couch, leaving space between her and Willow for Giles as she picked up one of the books nearest her.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t finish your sentence. You feeling okay?” Xander asked her, and she gave him a quick smile, glancing toward Willow as well and catching her knowing look.

“Oh yeah, fine. Yeah, the sooner we can stop the apocalypse.”

Willow snorted and giggled, touching her hand against her neck in the same spot Buffy suspected she had a bit of a red mark. Xander frowned in confusion at her, but slowly reached for the bowl of chips and grabbed a handful, stuffing them into his mouth even as he eyeballed the two girls suspiciously. He apparently didn't notice the hint of a hickey on Buffy’s neck, which she was fine with.

She slouched down in her seat and lifted her chosen book up high, hiding her face - and her neck - from sight.

**... ... ...**

“A Vahrall demon.” Giles announced suddenly, out of the blue, pronouncing the ‘h’ heavily like ‘va-hrall’. How he knew how to pronounce every single one of these things Buffy would never know. Were Watcher’s forced through some kind of demon encyclopedia and quizzed on the pronunciation of every demon ever known to man? How did he keep all that knowledge inside of his head? She was lucky enough if she remembered everything she learned from school within a single year.

“Eww.” Willow looked over to see the page he was looking at, and Xander leaned across her to see as well.

“I second that revulsion.” He grimaced. Buffy came over from the desk to see if it was indeed the right find, leaning against the back of the couch and reading over Giles’ shoulder.

“Yes,” Giles agreed with their disgust, and read aloud, “Slick like gold and gird in moonlight, father of portents and brother to blight.”

“Limbs with talons, eyes like knives; bane to the blameless, thief of lives…” Buffy tapped her fingers on the wooden edge of the couch as she thought. “The thing isn’t digging up the bones of a child for fun…”

“Well, a demon’s got some pretty hilarious ideas about fun.” Xander pointed out.

“The bones of a child, though…” Willow furrowed her brow. “I saw that.” She reached over to tug the book out of Giles’ hands and flip further through it.

Buffy carded her fingers through his hair absently as they all quietly waited for Willow to find what she was looking for. She was still a little bit aroused from earlier, but she could keep her brain focused on the big issue at hand while she let her hands do a little appreciating.

Appreciating of the non-arousing sort, anyway. He couldn’t hide it as well as she could, that was simple anatomy, but stroking his hair was a safe enough choice. She knew he enjoyed it, but it comforted him more than anything else.

“An ancient ritual,” Willow found her page, and Buffy forced her brain back on focus… which she could totally do. No problem. “It uses the blood of a man, the bones of a child, and - something called ‘The Word of Valios’.”

Giles straightened thoughtfully, clearly recognizing that on some level, unintentionally pressing back into Buffy’s touch. She kept on stroking his hair, marveling in its softness. She’s showered with him before; he really didn’t do anything special with his hair, and yet…

“It’s all part of a sacrifice - ‘the sacrifice of three’…” Willow continued, and Buffy swallowed and pulled away from Giles, straightening.

“Let me guess. Ends the world.” She paced away for a moment. Okay, maybe she had _a little_ trouble concentrating around him right now.

“Well, yeah. It’s not big with the details, though. It doesn’t say _how_ the world ends, or what the ritual entails exactly.” Willow frowned as she scanned over the text again.

“A sacrifice of three… three people are gonna _die_?” Xander questioned worriedly.

“No. They won’t.” Buffy answered him calmly before he could get worked up. “Because claw-boy’s not getting all of his ingredients. We have to find that third one, ‘The Word of Valios’, keep him from getting it.”

“If he doesn’t already have it.” Willow noted. “I mean, who knows where he’s been?”

“I’ll check the Magic Box,” Buffy figured, “see if the book’s in your inventory,” She looked toward Giles and he nodded, already reaching into his pocket for his keys.

“Perhaps,” He mused thoughtfully, likely internally scanning through what part of the inventory he had memorized in his brain. “I know I recognize the name, from somewhere…”

“Will, Xander, how about the book archives at the museum?”

“We’ll stop by my house on the way, get some weapons,” Xander confirmed, and added, “and I’ll change into something that isn’t quite as, uh, anchovy-scented.” He glanced down at his pizza-shop uniform, as did Willow, and she nodded vehemently in approval.

“You guys, this thing takes wicked very seriously. Be careful.” Buffy warned them. “I couldn’t stand anybody getting hurt.”

She ended her gaze around the room on Giles, grasping his hand for a moment, the keys trapped between them. He pursed his lips and nodded once, which she returned before fully accepting the keys from him and leading the way out of the apartment.

**... ... ...**

Buffy was just passing the Espresso Pump when she saw that Riley was meandering along the roadside as well, headed in her direction. His attention was focused on a… something electronic and GameBoy-like in his hands, so Buffy got over her hesitation fairly quickly and squared her shoulders before approaching him.

When he glanced back up and realized she was walking toward him, he fiddled with his little machine and tucked it in his pocket, not quite directly meeting her eyes.

“Buffy.” He greeted her carefully once they were standing face to face.

“Is this really the time for Donkey Kong?” She quipped, glancing down at the thing still making beeping noises from his pocket.

“What?” He wondered, lost, and she quirked her brow as it beeped in the silence between them. “Oh. It uh, takes trace readings of the creature’s pheromones.” He explained, tugging it back out and fiddling with it some more until it was silent.

“And?” Fancy. Buffy wasn’t sure she trusted fancy.

“And… it’s either mating season for this thing, or it’s moving all over town.” He sighed, apparently not having anything helpful to go on. “You know, Buffy,” He started, his tone soft and careful, and Buffy tensed.

“Actually, I need to go. Big Bad needs to be squished.”

“Right. I’m on it too.” He sighed as if he were about to let her continue past him, but then he skipped ahead in front of her and stopped her again. “It’s just, this thing - you said you, you work alone, as the- ” He paused, and glanced around at the other pedestrians mingling around the front of the coffee shop. “As a, uh, fry cook.”

Buffy raised her eyebrow at him, wondering if he’d popped an artery or something in his brain.

“From what I was told by my buddies, uh, at my own… restaurant,” He grimaced, and Buffy frowned. “The- I mean, fry cooks, usually work alone.”

“What _have_ you been told, exactly?” Buffy folded her arms across her chest, then glanced around as well. “About… fry cooks.”

He opened his mouth to begin, but then huffed and grabbed her arm, pulling her along the street until they were standing in front of the Magic Box, which perfectly happened to be the quietest area of the street right now.

“I wasn’t able to ask around much; we’ve been kind of busy lately. Some of the guys think the Slayer is a fairytale. A- a bogeyman that demons come up with to tell their little demon spawn at night. Because I guess even demons need to scare their kids into compliance?” He pondered that for a moment, and then shook his head. “Anyway - our books don’t say much, not the books I was able to find anyway. They don’t come right out and say it, but… general consensus is that you don’t exist.”

“And yet, here I am.” Buffy quipped, holding her arms out to the side. Riley nodded, serious, and perturbed.

“The Slayer was created as the final defense against evil. Something supposedly mystical and all-powerful so that Earth had a fighting chance, especially back when we didn’t have high-powered rifles and stun guns…”

“You’ve seen me fight, Riley. You’ve seen demons - and you don’t believe in magic?” Buffy could hear the uncertainty in his tone. She glanced pointedly up at the shop sign above their heads, and he followed her gaze before realizing where they were.

“Card tricks and pulling bunnies out of hats?” He gestured his hand dismissively at the shop he’s clearly never been inside before, and rolled his eyes. “Of course not. But like you said, I’ve seen you… fight off a beast three-times your size. Move with a superhuman speed, use more strength than I’ve ever seen even the strongest man do…” He trailed off, his tone one of wonder now. “I… so that’s what it is?”

“What _it_ is?” Buffy repeated carefully, and he grimaced again, sighing heavily and rubbing his fingers against his forehead for a moment.

“Sorry.” He took a breath, and then said, “Somehow you’re… you’re really the Slayer. So… but the information we have, she always seems to be…”

“Feral?” Buffy guessed, purposely keeping her tone disproportionately bright, and he pursed his lips but nodded carefully. “All slay, all day, used to be the lay of the land,” She informed him succinctly, “but I’m different. Giles is different. I don’t actually… there’s a handbook, apparently, but I’ve never read it. Giles says it’s severely outdated. All I know is, where there’ve been Slayers, there’ve been Watchers. Multiple Watchers, one Slayer. They’re like… the brains behind the sword.” Riley nodded slowly as he folded his arms across his chest and took in her words. “Not just that though, they’re the hand, too… the shackles, sometimes.”

“And these… Watchers,” He made an odd face. “That’s what Giles is? He’s a- uh- a Watcher?”

“He’s _my_ Watcher.” Buffy corrected, making sure it was obvious in her tone that she wasn’t just talking about association.

“That sounds dirty…” Riley caught her warning expression, and trailed off. After an awkward beat, he asked, “What does a Watcher _do_?”

“Guides me, trains me. Teaches me about who I am and how to control it. Keeps on top of prophecies and stuff like that - Giles is still the brain between the two of us, though he knows how to be the sword too, when he needs to be.” She knew she sounded proud; she was thinking about how well they all worked together defeating the mayor last year.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel so nervous about this current impending doom.

“Are there other Watchers here too?” Riley asked, and Buffy strategically chose not to mention Faith or Wesley. Technically, they weren’t in town anymore, anyway, so they weren’t ‘ _here_ ’, per se.

“No.” Buffy couldn’t help but scowl a little bit, thinking of Quentin Travers. “They like to keep their distance, and their patriarchal ignorance.”

“No lost love, huh?” Riley figured, raising his eyebrow in surprise, and Buffy folded her arms across her chest.

“Like I said, Giles and me, we’re different.”

“You’re dating.” Riley commented, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

“What is it with you psych guys being so obsessed with relationships and sex? _Yes,_ okay -”

“ _Sex_?!” Riley blurted. “You’re having sex with him?!”

“ _We’re dating_.” Buffy finished her original statement pointedly, and his ears flushed red a bit. “Not that anything else we may or may not do is any of your business.”

“So these others don’t care that you- you, uh,” He clearly didn’t want to say it again.

“I’m the one with the fancy powers.” Buffy shrugged, lifting one of her hands to inspect her fingernails. She briefly considered repainting them; it’d been a while since she wore anything other than polish. Riley looked wary of her, for a moment, a look she’d only seen once before, back when they were both fighting the Gentlemen and he’d gotten his first good look at what she could do. “I don’t really care what they think.”

“So you are working alone, then? Other than with, uh, Giles?” Riley said his name awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure what to call him. “What if- what if I -”

“No, I’ve got my Scoobies too.” She told him casually, as if he was supposed to know what that meant. He looked bewildered, and she relaxed her hands by her sides again. She felt more comfortable when he was the wrongfooted one in the conversation.

“Scoobies?” He repeated.

“The Scooby Gang,” She explained, taking it a little bit easier on him. As shady as the Initiative was, Riley really wasn’t all that bad. She would honestly enjoy being his friend, she thought, so long as he got over his little crush. “They’ve been calling themselves that ever since high school - you know, now that I think about it, I can’t even remember when it exactly first started…” She trailed off thoughtfully.

“High school…?” Riley started to look overwhelmed again, but he suddenly twitched and tugged a cell phone out of his pocket. “Finn.” He answered in his commando voice, and whatever was said on the other end of the line, his body even physically snapped into commando mode - all tense shoulders and straight back.

Buffy raised her eyebrows and gave him a little wave, stepping around him and unlocking the shop door while she had the chance. She didn’t have time to hash everything out with him here in the middle of the street - she needed to find that ‘Valios’ book.

“Wait,” Riley twisted around, not realizing she wasn’t heading away very far, holding the phone partially away from his mouth. “Did you say _prophecies_?”

“You’ve got a demon to catch, remember?” Buffy said pointedly. “We’ll talk later.”

And without waiting for a response further, she slipped into Giles’ shop and locked the door behind her.

**... ... ...**

She opened the apartment door with a sigh, hoping the others had better luck. There had been no ‘Valios’ in any of Giles’ records - she _did_ know what a card catalogue was for, so ha! - and she knew his record-keeping was anal enough not to bother wasting time hunting the shelves.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up before she noticed the overturned desk chair and bar stools, and she hurried closer to the couch where Giles and Xander were sitting.

“What happened?”

“It’s… my fault.” Giles grimaced, sounding like he was in some serious pain, and her eyes widened as she rounded the couch and got a good look at him. “I should have… known.”

He had a nasty bruise on one side of his head, scratches down the other, but the most worrying part was the way he held himself slouched to the side, his hand pressed against his upper ribs.

“ _Giles_ …” Buffy sat on the coffee table in front of him and reached out for his legs, hesitating just before touching him, worried about aggravating other unseen injuries. The fact that he wasn’t shying away from Xander’s worried touches to his shoulder and knee spoke heavily of the amount of pain he was in.

“The Word of Valios…” He trailed off as his breath left him, and carefully took half-a-breath inward, “is the name of a talisman, not a book. I blame myself entirely - I had- had it here.”

Buffy worriedly looked him over, slowly letting her hand rest on the knee that Xander wasn’t already touching. Giles closed his eyes for a moment

“You had it here?” Xander repeated. “Okay, first I thought you were being too hard on yourself, but,” He shook his head slowly, marveling as he carefully rubbed Giles’ shoulder comfortingly.

Willow appeared from the kitchen, with a towel filled with ice, wincing as she gingerly rested it against the bruised side of his head. Giles winced as well, carefully reaching up with the arm not apparently holding his ribs in place to grab the makeshift ice-pack himself.

“Oh - thank you,” He closed his eyes again as he grimaced. “I bought it at a- a sorcerer’s estate sale,” He explained, “I really only glanced at it once, I thought it was a knock-off,”

“Well, they have it… and they probably have their sacrifices by now too.” Buffy mused, trying to keep her focus on the even-more-impending apocalypse, and not the labored breaths of her Watcher. She couldn’t let her worry overwhelm her, not right now; he wouldn’t want that, either.

“They’re on their way to perform the sacrifice now,” Giles informed her, barely whispering now, carefully leaning more of his weight onto the couch.

“On their way where?” Buffy asked. “You found out what the ritual was for?”

“The Hellmouth.” He opened his eyes again, glancing at her only briefly before staring at the floor, a deeper sort of pain in his eyes as he said, “They’re gonna open the Hellmouth… the one in the library.” He bit his lip, clearly trying to swallow down groans of pain, and the other three shared a look.

Buffy slowly got to her feet.

“Looks like we’re going back to high school.” She announced. Giles started to lower the ice slightly from his head, but she quickly shook hers and knelt to gently press it against his forehead again. “Not you,” She murmured firmly. “You need a hospital. We’ll go.”

“Buffy…” She could sense how much he wanted to argue, but his voice was weak and his body even weaker - he _definitely_ had at least one or two broken ribs, and a concussion for sure. Those scratches needed looked at, and a black eye was already starting to form as well.

If she hadn’t run into Riley, if they hadn’t started hashing out all the Slayer stuff, maybe she could’ve been in and out of the Magic Box quicker, she could have been back here sooner, she could have…

“Call an ambulance,” Buffy told Willow, who nodded and rushed for the phone, and then she turned to Xander, “Weapons?”

“On it.” He was more careful than usual, hopping off the couch from beside Giles, but then he was filled with the same urgency as Willow as he slid to his knees in front of the weapons chest and began to dig through it, adding some of Giles’ gear to the duffel he’d brought from his own stash.

“I… can -”

“You are _not_ driving yourself to the hospital, Giles, you can’t even sit up straight.” Buffy interrupted him, giving him no room to argue, and she gently squeezed his knee. “I’ll stay until the ambulance arrives.”

“No,” He gingerly shook his head. “There’ll be… questions. No time; you need to- to stop the ritual,”

“I can’t leave you here like this, Giles,” She murmured, lowering her voice so her worry wouldn’t be heard by the other two. He opened his eyes again and gave her a little smile.

“I’ll be alright.” He told her, sounding no more strengthened than he had two minutes ago.

“Just until I hear the sirens,” She amended, reaching up to touch her fingers against his skin, just beneath the lowest scratch on his cheek.

“You must… keep your focus.” He reminded her softly, his tone full of understanding, and she pressed her lips together for a moment before she nodded sharply, and pulled her hand back to herself.

“I love you.” She said, getting to her feet, and he gave her a quick smile again, though his eyes drifted closed.

“Slayer-mine.” He said proudly, and although it was followed with a pained grimace as he shifted his arm against his side, it had the intended effect on her. She squared her shoulders and met Xander’s eyes, nodding as he lifted up the duffel bag full of weapons.

“Medics are on their way,” Willow announced as she set the phone down, then moved closer to the couch again. “Is there anything else we can do?” She fretted over Giles, and he softly clicked his tongue, never one to enjoy getting fussed over.

“You can go stop the apocalypse.” He informed them as firmly as he could manage, but both Willow and Xander looked toward Buffy before otherwise moving. He sighed, but said nothing else.

“We’ll go.” Buffy eventually confirmed. The ambulance was on its way and even if Giles did pass out before it got here, it wouldn’t be long.

If anything, she was definitely going to put a whupping on the demons for beating the tar out of her boyfriend.

**... ... ...**

“I’m going in!” Buffy shouted as she twisted to leap after the demon, knowing there was no time to hash out a plan with Riley. He grabbed her arm to stop her, and then snapped a carabiner to her belt that was attached to some kind of rope thing. Another fancy Initiative doo-dad.

“You’re coming back out.” He informed her, planting himself and holding onto the rope to keep it steady. She gave him a quick nod - understanding, appreciation - and then turned and dove into the hole after the demon.

She purposely didn’t think about the cavernous walls around her, or what was waiting just beyond her vision - focused on the third Vahrall demon just out of her reach. She tucked her limbs in close, trying to catch up to it, also not thinking about the obvious logical fact that Riley’s rope thing couldn’t be infinitely long - the Initiative might have technology on their side, but that kind of idea lay firmly in the magical realm that they didn’t believe in.

She could feel the shaking of the earth around her even as she fell through the air, and the cavern was definitely widening as well. Grasping desperately, she finally managed to get a hold on the demon’s leg just as the rope jerked them roughly to a stop, and they both swung and slammed into the rock wall hard enough for her to lose her breath.

She didn’t lose her grip, though, and reaffirmed it as she felt the rope tugging in a different direction - Riley was trying to pull her back up. She twisted around and used the rocky walls to help her ascent, chanting hopeful pleas under her breath that they hadn’t breached far enough into the Hellmouth, that the ritual hadn’t actually been completed.

The demon was unmoving within her grasp, probably having gotten knocked out from the wall after their abrupt stop, and Riley’s hands were there to help drag her up out of the hole once she reached it. He relieved her of the demon, tugging it off to the side before then pulling Buffy to her feet.

Everything was still shaking around them, and they glanced toward one another worriedly.

“Buffy,”

The ground settled, then, as did the building, and they hesitantly looked around what used to be the library, waiting for the unstable remains to come crashing down over their heads anyway.

When nothing happened, Buffy tiredly went for the forgotten weapons bag Xander had dropped, and fished a sword from it. It happened to be one of Giles’ favorites, and that made Buffy smile grimly.

Good. Poetic justice, then.

She twirled the sword once before stepping determinedly toward the prone demon, but Riley frowned and held out his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“My job.” She told him, knowing that there was a dangerous look in her eyes. “These guys just tried to - and almost succeeded, mind you - open up hell on earth. They aren’t fuzzy little guinea pigs to put in a cage and watch run around on a little ball. They’re evil, and I’m the Slayer.” She gripped the sword in both hands. “I slay.”

Without waiting for another word from him, she swung the blade in a smooth arc, decapitating the Vahrall easily. She saw Riley wince out of the corner of her eye, but knew it was squeamishness on his part.

He was probably still trying to see her as innocent little freshman Buffy, the girl who liked ice-cream maybe a little too much and who considered shoe shopping an art form and who sometimes fell asleep in class.

“Let’s go.” She ordered as she wiped the blade clean on her jeans and then stooped to put it back in the duffel, before swinging the strap over her shoulder. “I still don’t trust the stability of this place, and I need to check on the others.”

“The others?” He followed after her immediately, perhaps conditioned to follow the tone of her voice. A part of her, as she considered that, actually kind of liked the idea of being in charge of her own little army… then again, that would be more people put at risk, more lives directly in her hands, and she didn’t want that.

More people just got in the way. She shook her head a little at herself. No, she was just fine with her Scooby Gang.

They were in the hall just outside the library, anxious until they saw that Buffy was unharmed.

“Willow!” Riley greeted in surprise. “And… Xander, right? Geez, what are the chances, huh? I was uh, just passing by, and uh, thought I heard people inside.”

Buffy raised her eyebrow at his nervous - and horrible - attempt at a cover story, and she folded her arms across her chest as she bit her lip to keep from snorting in amusement as she and Willow shared a look.

“You were just passing by in your G.I. Joe outfit?” Willow wondered, and only Riley couldn’t tell that she was teasing. He looked down at his attire in confusion.

“No offense, you do look wicked conspicuous.” Buffy told him as he looked himself over again.

“I do? But it’s…” He sounded pouty about it for a minute. Then he looked up toward the others and blurted, “Paintball. Yeah. I was playing… paintball… and then the aftershock came, and I -”

“So you really are one of those commando guys, huh?” Xander interrupted him, gesturing vaguely at him, and he floundered even worse.

“Oh, no, no no no. I uh, commando? No, ha, I mean,” He trailed off awkwardly, and Buffy patted his arm.

“Give him a break, guys, before he self-destructs,” She teased, and the other two smirked as well as Riley frowned and blushed. “Here,” She handed the duffel bag back to Xander, and gave them a serious look. “Go check on Giles?” She asked them, before nodding her head toward Riley, “We have some things we need to clear up.”

“Sure.” Xander nodded as he accepted the bag.

“I’ll call our room once we see how he’s doing.” Willow promised.

“Thanks, guys.” Buffy told them sincerely, thanking them for more than just that request, and they both seemed to understand as they ducked their heads in a similar gesture and hurried out of the decrepit building.

Buffy followed at a slightly more leisurely pace, and Riley followed her a half-step later.

“It’s those two, isn’t it?” Riley realized, shocked and a bit dismayed. “Are they even trained? They’re civilians!”

“They’ve helped me stop more apocalypses then you guys probably even know about.” Buffy defended a bit fiercely.

They stepped quietly over rubble as they meandered their way back toward the main road, and Buffy tried not to let her eyes linger over that particular spot in the parking lot over there where she was pretty sure…

She shifted her shoulders and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. Best not to think about that right now, not with Riley walking beside her.

“You and I have things in common, you know. Things nobody else does.” He murmured, and when she glanced over, he was looking at his feet as he stepped. “And we fight well together, right? That’s twice now!”

Buffy chose not to comment on that, specifically. It wasn’t as if they’d come up with an entire strategy together, or used their own form of shorthand in the thick of dangerous tension, or knew inherently what the other needed in the heat of a moment in the middle of battle… 

“I know you like me.” He tried again, soft, not really pushing her, but trying to understand.

“But not like that, Riley.” Buffy told him gently. “I was trying to make friends, go to class, attend a few parties - be a little normal. And then I find out you…” She trailed off, and changed tactic a little. “Do you _know_ what a Hellmouth is? Do you have a fancy term for it? Because I went to high school on it.” She gestured at the remains of the building behind them. “For three years. We do not have that much in common. This is a job, to you.”

“It’s not just a job.” He insisted.

“It’s an adventure, great.” Buffy could see the excitement in his eyes, especially now after everything that just went down in the high school. It reminded her, in some ways, of Owen… sweet Owen, her first date in Sunnydale, his adrenaline-junkie attitude far too dangerous for his own good. “But for me, it’s destiny. It is something that I can’t change, something that I can’t escape - and I do share it with someone. It’s Giles’ destiny, too. He was born for this, same as me. And he’s been dealing with it for far longer.”

“I see.” Riley looked disappointed, and sad, but she could see his brain still working hard on something. “So… you’re not really supposed to live a double-life, like we do? Have friends, a family, go to school?”

“No.” Buffy confirmed, hesitantly relaxing a little. He hadn’t run off again, so that was a good sign. “It would… distract me from my purpose.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Having a life even a little outside of slaying is ‘useless to the cause’.”

“I get the feeling you’ve been told something that specific before.” He mused wryly. “So, you don’t have a c.o., but you do answer to someone? One of these other, uh, Watchers you mentioned earlier?”

“Not anymore.” Buffy replied succinctly, and then said, “If you want to know more about Watchers, you’d have to ask Giles.”

As much of a not-fan she was of the Council, she didn't want to put them on the Initiative’s radar either. Plus, maybe Giles could get Riley into a little quid-pro-quo for information.

“I would.” Riley replied seriously, surprising her. His eyes were bright with that glint she would often see in class. “From what I’ve heard, the Slayer is like, an ancient thing, born through generations… I’m curious about these two rebels from the fold. I mean, why now? Do you think there were ever more Slayers and Watchers like you guys?” Riley wondered aloud, obviously fascinated, and Buffy raised her eyebrow at him. “Sorry.” He ducked his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets, knowing he’d gotten a little too excited for a moment.

Giles had expected Riley to be forthcoming because of his interest in Buffy - she was very pleasantly surprised to see that it was his fascination in knowledge, in how people worked, that would keep him around. They walked down the sidewalk in silence for a few moments, until he broke it again,

“Look, I-I’m not gonna force myself on you or anything.” He promised her sincerely. “But I’d like… I’d really like us to be friends. Plus it’s really nice to have friends who know my job but aren’t other soldiers like me, you know?”

Buffy slowly smiled, and nodded in understanding. He looked shy again, for a moment, and admitted,

“I do have a crush on you, and that might take a little while to get over - but I promise I will. Get over it I mean.”

“Thank you, Riley.” She murmured earnestly. They were quiet again for a minute, what she thought was a comfortable silence this time, until he blurted,

“What’s he look like?” Buffy blinked at him. “I mean, when you say older, is he like…” He hesitated, looking discomforted and unsure.

“He’s not a _grandpa_ , you weirdo.” Buffy snorted and pushed at him, and he chuckled hesitantly, scratching his hand through his hair as he glanced over at her, still obviously unsure.

**— — —**

A week later, Buffy hadn’t heard anything else out of Riley other than the usual benign, innocent topics of schoolwork and college parties. She hoped that maybe he’d gotten over his fascination with Watchers and Slayers and all that, but it turned out not to be the case…

She was in the bathroom at the Magic Box, changing into her work-out gear when she heard Giles greet who she assumed to be a customer,

“May I offer assistance with anything?”

“I’m looking for a… are you- um- Giles?”

“What can I help you with, Riley?”

Buffy could hear the calm smile Giles wore through the tone of his voice. Riley, however, was obviously wrong-footed and slightly concerned.

“You- you know who I am?”

Buffy rolled her eyes; that was probably exactly the kind of response that Giles had wanted from him.

“Of course. Buffy’s told me a lot about you.” He was still calm and casual, but Riley sounded even more nervous,

“She has? W-what has she- she said about me?”

Giles let that question linger in the air for a moment, before replying warmly,

“You’ve been a good friend to her. Very helpful this term.”

Buffy dropped her head into her hand, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Oh. Right, yeah.”

There was silence, then, for an awkward amount of time.

“Was there something you needed?” Giles asked eventually, unbothered.

“I just… um… well, Buffy told me some things too, which I guess you know… not a lot about what you do, exactly, and I wondered…” Riley trailed off again, and then blurted incredulously, “ _You_ trained her?”

Buffy immediately decided it was time to intervene, and slipped out the door and across the room, approaching the counter where Giles and Riley stood across from one another.

“You should see him with a sword in his hands.” She grinned, turning her gaze on Giles. “Or a chainsaw…” Buffy felt Riley’s eyes on her as she looked at Giles, but she made no effort to hide the warmth in her gaze.

“Buffy- I, uh, didn’t know you were here.” Riley stammered, embarrassed.

“Just getting changed, for some of that training you mentioned.” She shrugged a shoulder and began walking toward the back room. “Speaking of…?” She gave Giles a look, and he nodded as he closed up his records book and fished the keys from his pocket.

“Mr. Finn,” He offered, tossing the keys to Riley, “If you’re interested in what it is I do… take care to flip the sign and lock up.”

Riley caught the keys and considered the offer for a moment, before nodding in agreement.

“Fetch the fencing swords?” Giles requested as he followed Buffy into the training room, and she gave him an uncertain look.

“You sure you’re up for one-on-one today?” She asked seriously. The scratches on his face were almost completely healed now; they could be from a cat from all anyone else knew, and that was exactly what Giles would tell questioning customers. His black eye was gone, as well, but it was his ribs she was most concerned about.

“Fencing, yes.” He promised her. “Hand-to-hand, I think not.”

“Alright.” She gave him a warning look, however, that silently ordered him not to push himself too much.

Giles was shrugging out of his coat when Riley joined them, and tucked the keys returned to him into his coat pocket before draping it over the spin-bike.

“He’s wearing _tweed_.” Riley noted dubiously, and Buffy snorted as she held Giles’ rapier while he studiously rolled up his sleeves, and she tried not to stare too hard.

“Trust me, it’s better than some of the sweaters he owns.” She quipped, and Giles lifted his chin slightly as he gave her a look. She grinned at him, and tossed his rapier to him which he snatched from the air with ease. He toed off his shoes and socks, then, and joined her on the mats.

They half circled one another for a moment, until he shifted into his preferred en garde stance, and she followed suit. At first, as they traded simpler attacks and parries, Buffy thought it was weird to have an observer in the room with them. Even the Scoobies didn’t hang around much during training. Usually, their heads were tucked into books, and especially since they’ve moved from the library to the Magic Box, they stayed in the main area and left Buffy and Giles alone.

Soon enough, however, she fell into the rhythm of training and was able to ignore Riley’s presence entirely. Noticing her change in focus in the way that only her Watcher could do, Giles began to spar more intently with her, putting her skills to a more serious test. He didn’t have her speed or her reflexes, but he was smart and talented with a sword, and he’s bested her before. When it came to fencing with him, she had to stay on her toes… figuratively and literally.

“Good!” He praised her when she got her first touch, finally, but he immediately knocked her rapier to the side and lunged at her. She only just managed to block the attack, but he quickly twisted his wrist and caught her left thigh before she could back away. His eyes looked proud, smug, but he clicked his tongue in disapproval, and she huffed a breath of air, pushing a loose strand of her hair out of her face.

They didn’t score for points, usually - it was a fight until the first lethal touch. For his sake, they left the neck and head off limits; she sparred with the dummy when she needed to work on those particular moves.

While Buffy wanted to show off her Watcher a little bit to the commando who’d already seen _her_ skills, she didn’t want Giles to _win_ , so she pursed her lips and advanced quickly, using short flicks of her blade in an attempt to tire him out and sneak another hit in. Giles’ riposte was fast, though, even for her, and he managed to fend her off for minutes.

They were both perspiring a bit when, finally, the point of her sword landed on his torso, her arm fully extended toward him and the blade bent in an arc.

A perfect touch.

Buffy grinned lopsidedly, unmoving as Giles slowly looked down at the tip of her rapier pressing against one of the buttons of his waistcoat. He lifted his eyes up toward her before allowing his head to follow, quietly catching his breath as he lowered his own rapier.

“Well done.” He murmured, his voice a little rough from exertion. Their gazes lingered on one another as neither moved yet. Buffy was sorely tempted to flick the tip of her blade, pop the button off of his waistcoat… he would frown in annoyance at having to sew the button back on later, but his lips would be ready and waiting for a hard kiss when she leapt at him… their swords would clatter to the ground forgotten as they both tangled their fingers into sweat-dampened hair, kissing wet and wild and -

“You really do know how to sword fight,” Riley commented, surprised and impressed. Buffy blinked, her only tell that she was startled back into reality.

Reminded of the young man’s presence, Giles cleared his throat and walked over to the counter in the corner, setting his rapier down as he reached underneath for a couple of towels. He neared Buffy again to hand her the other one, and she accepted it gratefully before wiping off her forehead and the back of her neck.

“But I still don’t get it - why fight with swords and- and stakes, when we have guns?” Riley asked.

“I don’t like guns.” Buffy immediately said with a frown, and Giles paused for a moment before saying,

“More often than not, bullets won’t do the job; they’re far more likely to piss off your enemy than kill them. In many cases, decapitation is the only final option, anyway.” Giles removed his glasses to scrub his towel over his face and hair. That finished, he continued, “That’s not even mentioning the fact that suppressors and silencers never _truly_ silence a gunshot. A distinctive sound is still emitted, and to the super-powerful hearing of a vampire, you’re blaring your location like a neon sign.” He narrowed his eyes in a disapproval manner, and Riley ducked his head a little.

It was a point that made absolute sense, and Buffy was surprised that the Initiative hadn’t seemed to consider it before. Or, perhaps they had considered it, and just had that much egotism that they assumed they were strong enough to handle whatever attention they brought on themselves.

Stupid.

She draped the towel around her neck as she tried not to stare at Giles’ ruffled hair too directly. That’s exactly how it’d look if they’d been alone, and she’d kissed him like she wanted to…

“I… if it’s alright with you, I’d really like to learn more about you guys. How you do what you do.” Riley told them respectfully, and Giles acted as if he were considering the question for a moment, though Buffy knew that he’d been expecting it and already had his answer.

“I suggest equal footing.” He replied calmly, straight-forwardly. “If you’re willing to share more about the Initiative, then we can share more of… ‘how we do what we do’, with you.”

Riley hesitated, uncomfortable, and admitted,

“I- I do answer to people. I would have to ask my superior about that. For permission.”

Giles had suspected that, too, and he and Buffy had already discussed it together.

“If you need to tell Professor Walsh that I’m the Slayer,” Buffy informed Riley, “you can.” Riley widened his eyes and stared at her, far beyond uncomfortable now. “Yes, we know Walsh is involved, and you answer to her in some way. No, we haven’t and we won’t share that information with anyone else. We haven’t _yet_ , after all.”

“How long have you known all this about me? About us?” Riley exclaimed, glancing between the two of them.

“We know very little.” Giles sighed as he pointed that out, and tucked his glasses back onto his nose. “Most of it is what we’ve been able to surmise from a loud-mouthed vampire that you seemed to have… lost.” Giles gave him a wry look, and Riley pursed his lips and grimaced, averting his eyes for a moment.

Buffy noted that Giles didn’t mention their ‘informant’ in the name of Ethan Rayne, either.

“We had a… mild containment breach.” Riley muttered.

“I’m not sure that I like the thought of you lot _containing_ dangerous demons - many of which can’t be killed by average human means.” Giles chided the young man, giving him a serious look.

“How are we supposed to learn about them if we don’t study them?” Riley protested defensively, and Buffy folded her arms across her chest.

She doubted ‘microchipping’ fell under the umbrella of ‘studying’, but she didn’t want to give away their knowledge about that, yet. She wanted to see if the Initiative would own up to it on their own.

“I understand that you answer to a higher command,” Giles softened his tone. “We’ll give you time to make your decision or get approval - but in the meantime? There will be no more discussion of the Slayer.” He gestured between them all, and most specifically Riley and Buffy. “Nor of the work she does. We have offered you the courtesy of our silence and we expect you to do the same - outside of conferring with your superior officer.”

“Understood.” Riley nodded seriously, and Buffy wondered how Giles knew to sound so military-esque. “Thank you, for…” He trailed off, and gestured toward the sparring mats in lieu of finishing his statement. “I’ll, I’ll think this over, and… see you in class?”

“Yeah, see you in class, Riley.” Buffy nodded with a gentle smile, and he relaxed a little bit at that, giving her one more nod before turning toward the door.

He paused with his hand on the knob, and looked back toward Giles curiously.

Giles didn’t notice, however, because he was too busy giving Buffy a soft smile as he brushed a wayward strand of her hair back behind her ear. She pretended she didn’t notice Riley either, as she carefully rested her palm against his side.

“How are your ribs?”

“A bit sore,” He admitted, “but only because they’ve been underworked this past week. I’m alright.

“Technically, you’re not.” Buffy raised her eyebrow as she lifted her rapier slightly, reminding him that she’d gotten the killing blow. He smirked, and snatched his hand out to grip her wrist and twist it in such a way that she dropped the sword. “Hey-!”

It hadn’t hurt, but he normally wouldn’t have been able to do that so easily. She just hadn’t been expecting it.

“You know the rules in the training room, Buffy.” He drawled lowly, not _quite_ chiding.

“Do I?” She quipped challengingly.

“Always be prepared for an attack.”

“Oh? Right, yeah… forgot about that one.” She batted her eyes at him playfully. “There were other rules too though, right? Maybe I’ve forgotten them, too - maybe you should remind me.”

He laughed at her expression, a loose and happy sound, pulling away from her and moving to pick up his own rapier as well and return them both to the cabinet where they were kept.

“Rule number _one_ , no flirting.” He chuckled wryly, and Buffy grinned as she turned to follow him toward the cabinet.

She ignored the sound of the door quietly shutting behind them. Giles glanced toward it as he turned back around to face her, but then she was bracing her hands against the front of his waistcoat and he was looking down at her again.

“Broke that one, too. Oops.” She gave him an innocent look.

“Six inches, Buffy.” He chided her teasingly, putting his hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm's length, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“I’ll refrain from the dirty joke you just _so_ easily invited.” She sing-songed, and he groaned and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling as he let her go.

“How mature of you.”

“Don’t even pretend!” Buffy snorted in amusement as she followed him toward the opposite corner of the room, where they had a small basket for laundry. “Let’s not forget your favorite little ‘ _staking_ ’ joke,”

“That joke is hardly my favorite.” Giles scoffed, tossing his towel into the basket to be followed by hers. “And, ‘little’? Really?” His eyes glittered as he looked at her from the corner of his eye, while retrieving some bottles of water.

“See?! And none of the Scoobies believe me you’re a dirty, dirty-minded man. I’ve been inside your head, remember!” She complained as she accepted a bottle from him, and he chuckled again, leaning down to murmur warmly into her ear as she opened the cap and took a long drink,

“And mine has been inside of you.”

Buffy choked and spit out her water in surprise as he calmly straightened and took a sip from his own bottle, his expression completely innocent, nothing in it to give away the lewdness of what he’d just said.


	26. Chapter 25 (The I in Team, Goodbye Iowa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy gets into the Initiative... and just as quickly, finds herself being hunted by them.

Another week went by before Buffy found herself sitting in Professor Walsh’s office at the school.

“So. The Slayer.” Walsh stated in an odd sort of tone, like she wasn’t sure to be impressed… like maybe she thought Buffy was lying.

“Yeah. That’s me.” Buffy actually felt a little bit nervous - but having Riley standing supportively beside her was helpful. She would’ve liked to have Giles in on this meeting, as well, but they were still trying to figure out what exactly to tell the Initiative and what not to.

“We thought you were a myth.”

“Well, you were myth-taken.” Buffy quipped, and then winced. Her puns were always lame when she was nervous.

“And to think, all that time you were sitting in my class. Well, most of those times.”

Buffy winced again at that, and lowered her eyes. She’d only skipped class a couple of times - not even enough to break the code of conduct rules - but Walsh had noticed anyway.

“I always knew you could do better than a B-minus. Now, I understand your energies were directed to the same place as ours, in fact.” Buffy lifted her gaze back to Walsh’s once she realized she wasn’t going to get chewed out for missing class. “From what Riley tells me, it’s only our methods that differ. We use the latest in scientific technology and state-of-the-art weaponry, and _you_ , if I understand correctly… poke them with a sharp stick.”

Buffy blinked, not averting her gaze this time, hearing the clear rather dismissive tone in Walsh’s voice.

“It’s more effective than it sounds.” She replied, still going for the light and bubbly college student, though she felt as if her hackles were up now.

“Oh, I’m quite sure of that.” Walsh nodded, and Buffy hoped her confusion didn’t show on her face. Was she merely going off of Riley’s report to her, or did she have other evidence of her own? “As I’m just as sure we can learn much from each other. I’m working on getting you clearance to come into the Initiative.”

Buffy was definitely surprised by that, and glanced up toward Riley, who smiled happily back. She hadn’t expected such a quick turnaround. She also mentally noted that Walsh’s phrasing basically confirmed they hadn’t been entirely correct in their earlier assumption that Walsh was in charge of the Initiative… she definitely seemed important, though, and Buffy was leaning more toward her ‘head scientist’ vibe.

“I think you’ll find the results of our operation most impressive.” Walsh continued. “Agent Finn here alone has killed or captured - how many is it?”

“Seventeen.” Riley answered calmly, even with Walsh obviously trying to show him off. “Eleven vampires, six demons.”

“Oh. Wow.” Buffy said, solely for their benefit, having _zero_ idea whether or not that constituted a lot for them. She’d had single nights where she’d killed at least half that number. She probably tripled that by the end of a busy week. “I mean that’s - seventeen.” She praised awkwardly.

“What about you?” Walsh asked.

“Me?”

“How many hostiles would you say you’ve slain?” The professor clarified, leaning forward to rest her elbows against her desk.

Buffy blinked and glanced toward Riley again briefly. She didn’t want to make him feel inept when, for a human with human-focused training, he wasn’t a _bad_ demon fighter. She also wasn’t sure how to play it with Walsh - which would earn her respect more? Playing it humble? By the way she’d spoken thus far, it sounded like she still didn’t quite believe that Buffy was the Slayer - that the Slayer was real. Would she even believe if Buffy told her she’d likely taken out hundreds?

Anyway, she didn’t keep track of that sort of thing. Giles probably knew the answer, because Giles was her Watcher, but Slaying wasn’t a game or a competition. Death was not something she wanted to keep track of, even if it was evil she was killing.

Riley nudged her shoulder with his elbow, and gave her an encouraging nod.

Well, maybe a few stories wouldn’t hurt. A highlight reel, that was all.

**... ... ...**

“I don’t even think *I* could take you,” Riley pouted a little as he rifled through one of the filing cabinets for the study sheets Buffy was missing, and Buffy raised her eyebrow at him.

“Not gonna lie, you’ve got a height advantage, but come on Riley - I’ve got that preternatural Slayer strength to my advantage. Plus, been doing this since I was fifteen,” She shrugged a little, and he gaped at her.

“ _Fifteen_?”

“So… who trained you? What did they tell you this job was for, when they found you?” Buffy wondered, wanting to turn the conversation toward him for a bit.

“Didn’t.” Riley replied easily. “I was still in basic when I got the call - in the military you learn to follow orders, not ask questions.” He was teasing her a little. “I received more specific training once I arrived at the Initiative.”

“I don’t understand.” Buffy admitted. How did psychology-nerd Riley handle that? “Aren’t you curious about all the science and research stuff they’re doing?”

He considered that for a moment, but then shook his head.

“I know all I need to know. We’re doing good here, protecting the public. Removing the subterrestrial threat. It’s work worth doing.”

God, he really was a boy scout.

Buffy hoped the ‘interview’ with Walsh had worked out and she’d find herself inside the Initiative soon enough - she wasn’t going to get anything more out of Riley than what she already knew.

“Professor Walsh, I presume?” Giles’ voice drifted muffled through the closed door of the storage room they were currently searching, and Buffy turned toward it in surprise. “You’re hard to find. These- these halls are quite the labyrinth. I felt like, uh, Theseus and the minotaur in the, um… labyrinth.”

Buffy poked her head up in the window to peer into Walsh’s office, confused as to why Giles was standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets.

Ohhh, jeans, yummy.

“Can I help you with something, Mr…” Walsh asked, and Buffy yanked her head away from the window as Giles looked up from his shoes and stepped closer to Walsh’s desk to shake her hand.

“Giles. Rupert.”

“What’s he doing here?” Riley wondered, frowning, and Buffy shook her head quickly at him.

“Sh!” She warned, and he gave her an odd look.

“I’m looking for Buffy Summers. I’m, um, a- a friend of hers.” Giles told Walsh, and Buffy relaxed. Perhaps Giles had shown up to do some recon of his own, not realizing that Buffy had only just finished her meeting with Walsh. Then, she considered that he would come searching for her like this only if there was an emergency, and she quickly tensed again and reached for the door handle.

“I’m sorry, Buffy’s not here, but if I see her…”

“Buffy’s been very influenced by your course. Sometimes,” He chuckled a little softly, “she sounds a bit like an introductory textbook herself.”

Of course he would think that was funny. She supposed she deserved that after all the teasing the gang had given him over the years.

But why did Walsh say that Buffy wasn’t around? The professor knew that she and Riley had gone into the back storage room to look for copies of the few class materials that Buffy had missed. Buffy hesitated to open the door, wondering what Walsh was up to.

“I don’t lecture from the textbook, but I’m glad she’s inspired by the material. She’s bright.” Walsh was giving him a bit of a dig, and Buffy frowned, even though the compliment about her intelligence was pretty nice. That definitely didn’t happen often. “All she’s really been lacking is encouragement in the academic setting.”

“Now, um, I think it’s best if we let a young person find their own strength.” Giles pointed out, and Buffy wondered why he didn’t defend himself to Walsh’s assumptions. He’d totally been encouraging of her about the college thing, from the very beginning! “Buffy is, um… well, she’s not the typical student. Once you get to know her, she’s a very unique girl.”

Buffy preened a little at the obvious fondness in his tone, and Riley looked confused as well, now. He shifted closer to whisper quietly to Buffy,

“Is he going to tell Walsh about the Watcher thing? I thought you guys didn’t want - I mean, I haven’t told her anything about him.”

“I don’t know.” Buffy whispered back, carefully peeking through the window again, and lingering when she realized that neither of the two in the other room were paying attention to the door she was hiding behind.

She noticed Walsh give Giles a brief once-over, and groaned inwardly, recognizing the psychoanalyst in the professor’s expression. Giles might just be giving away the _wrong_ secret, here…

“I think I do know her.” Walsh commented, rounding her desk to lean against the front of it. “And I have found her to be a unique woman.”

“Woman, of course. How wrong of me to choose my own words.” Giles snarked not-very-quietly under his breath. Buffy knew he hadn’t meant anything by his phrasing; Walsh was just shooting a barb at him.

“She’s very self-reliant, very independent,” Walsh continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Exactly!”

Buffy grinned at his pride in her.

“Which is not always a good thing.” Walsh finished, and Giles stared at her in surprise. Buffy did, too. “I think it can be unhealthy, to take on adult roles too early.” The way she said ‘adult roles’ made Buffy tense again, and she groaned in dismay again, softly. “What I suspect I’m seeing is a reaction to the absence of a male role model.” Buffy didn’t like being psychoanalyzed, and she liked even less that Walsh was misusing it to rankle Giles.

“…Absence…?” Giles obviously didn’t even know where to begin with that, and Walsh quickly continued while she had the verbal upper hand,

“Buffy clearly lacks a strong father figure.” Walsh straightened, her arms folded loosely over her chest. “I’m sorry, I have things to do. I’ll tell Buffy her _friend_ was looking for her.” Walsh dismissed him as he still visibly floundered at how to respond to her insinuations.

Buffy knew he couldn’t just snark something back, not when she was someone they needed to keep in relative communication with, and not when they weren’t yet sure of her exact role within the Initiative. As Walsh went back around behind her desk and Giles still hesitated, Buffy grabbed at the papers in Riley’s hands and burst out of the storage room.

“Found them. Thank you, Professor - oh. Giles? What are you doing here?” Buffy pretended as if she’d had no idea he was there, and Riley quietly shuffled out of the room behind her.

Giles looked startled at first, and then a quick flash of joy, embarrassment, discomfort, and finally suspicious confusion as his eyes settled on Riley. Walsh raised her eyebrow a little in Buffy’s direction - she no doubt knew very well that Buffy had heard their entire conversation. It’d been for her ‘benefit’ as much as it’d been for Giles’.

He shouldn’t have said the friend thing. He’d doomed himself from the start. Walsh was well-studied in _psychology_ , for God’s sake.

“I- um- w-well, looking for you.” He answered softly, quickly putting his glasses back on. He glanced suspiciously back toward Walsh, who was suddenly adopting a bit of a surprised expression as well.

“Oh, you two! I’d forgotten you were back there. Did you finally find what you were looking for?” Her careful phrasing and her lightly teasing tone of voice made Buffy inwardly bristle, not liking what she was insinuating and not appreciating that she was insinuating it.

Her whole opinion of the professor was, disappointingly, going downhill thanks to this entire conversation.

“I did, thanks again.” Buffy vaguely gestured the papers in her fist, acting unbothered and oblivious by Walsh’s attempt at another barb.

The professor might not know _exactly_ what Giles’ and Buffy’s relationship with one another was, but it was clear that she didn’t approve. Well, Buffy didn’t care about that. Walsh didn’t know either of them, not really, and her opinion on Buffy’s personal life didn’t matter. The people who knew them best accepted them, even Riley seemed to accept them, albeit begrudgingly.

“Looking for me?” Buffy gave Giles a big smile as she approached him, making sure her tone was very familiar as she murmured, “Usually you call,”

“W-well,” He started carefully, hesitating when Buffy rested her hand against the front of his button-up.

“See you in class, Professor.” Buffy told Walsh, cheerfully polite as she gripped Giles’ shirt and tugged him toward the door with her. “So, what’s up? Is there an emergency?” She asked him as they left the office together, and she noticed out of the corner of her eye as Walsh’s eyes narrowed and she gave Riley a look.

He sighed, and followed after the other two, though Buffy ignored his semi-distant presence.

“Yes, rather,” Giles admitted, “I’m afraid I’ve missed something - and it’s almost sundown now; we’re cutting it close- ”

“You wouldn’t be talking about a demon that refers to himself as ‘Prince Bavrain’, would you?” Riley spoke up, and they paused in the hall, Buffy’s hand still on Giles’ shirt as he gave Riley a suspicious look. “We monitor hotspots,” Riley explained a bit sheepishly as he stepped closer to them. “Found a lot of activity in one of the cemeteries last night and managed to stop him before he really got started.”

“Oh.” The tension in Giles’ shoulders dropped, and he looked a bit put-out, now. “Monitor hotspots, you say?” He wondered lightly, and Buffy rubbed his chest a little, soothingly.

“So they’ve got some fancy gadgets.” Buffy shrugged. “I bet they don’t have anything close to your book collection.”

“Oh yes, because that’s so impressive.” Giles snarked, rolling his eyes. And, okay, maybe Buffy _had_ teased him a bit too much about being a book nerd, but really, it was with total fondness now.

“There’s plenty about you that’s impressive,” Buffy murmured lowly, giving him a slow smile when he hesitantly met her eyes again. “To girly-me _and_ Slayer-me.”

He slowly preened a bit, and the slump left his shoulders, and Riley cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Wh-what should I tell Walsh, if she asks me…?” Riley asked quietly, then trailed off, unsure, and gestured at the two of them. “She’s going to ask me questions.”

“You can tell her he works with me, helps me with the Slay Stuff… but nothing about Watchers. Not yet.” Buffy decided, and Riley nodded. He gazed at them for a moment longer, and shook his head.

“You know she thinks you’re in some kind of sordid relationship together,” He almost chided them, and Buffy grinned cheekily.

“We are in a sordid relationship together.” She quipped, and Giles flushed a little.

“Th-there’s nothing dishonorable or, or cheap about anything between us,” He defended, and Buffy softened her smile and slid her hand up to rest her palm over his heart.

“Of course not. I only mean that we can get a little dirty sometimes.” She wiggled her eyebrows then, and Giles groaned in discomfort and rolled his eyes at her fail of a joke.

“I, um, I’ll see you in class Buffy, okay?” Riley said uncomfortably, and Buffy took it easy on him, pulling back from Giles completely. She was mostly acting overtly familiar with him for Walsh’s sake, who was still blatantly watching them out of earshot from the entry of her office a few doors down.

“See you, Riley. Thank you for… having my back with all this.” Buffy was gratefully sincere, and Riley smiled softly as he nodded.

“I really do think you’d be a great asset to have with us.” He replied earnestly, and then turned to head back toward his professor-boss.

Buffy and Giles strolled through the halls in silence for a few minutes, a sheepish one on Giles’ part.

“Willow was right, you _totally_ suck at keeping us a secret.” Buffy eventually sighed tiredly, and he pouted, defensive,

“If I remember correctly, she had used the plural _we_. _We_ suck at keeping this a secret.”

“At least I wasn’t the one who gave it away to _the one person_ who would _completely_ misread the situation,” Buffy pointed out dryly, and he growled under his breath.

“That- th-that _fish wife_. ‘Absent’, my arse. I’m twice the man she is. And _father figure_?!”

Buffy smiled at his grumbling, and shifted closer against his side to slide her arm around his waist and give him a quick hug. Then, she darted her hand down into the back pocket of his jeans and squeezed his butt.

“Twice the man indeed, I’m not the only great asset to have around here,” She grinned as he yelped and jumped, and quickly drew her hand back to herself and put a modicum of distance between them. “Wanna come back to my dorm and make out a little?”

“I- I’m not sure that would be,” He stammered, glancing around them, but the other students in the hall weren’t paying them any attention.

“C’mon, Willow’s in a study group until eight.” Buffy encouraged, and she watched the way he thoughtfully licked his lips.

“Well, alright.” He agreed, and Buffy’s grin widened as she took his elbow and quickened their pace a little. The sooner they got back to her room, the more time they would have for some cuddling before Willow showed up.

**— — —**

“Riley told me that Professor Walsh couldn’t stop talking about this move I made that Giles had taught me - I used one of the commandos as a shield to block a taser blast. It was like twelve-thousand volts! It took the guy almost _two hours_ to recover.” Buffy grinned as she took a sip of her coffee. “Giles wasn’t exactly happy when he heard about them using live rounds against me - tasers or not - but he was pretty impressed with me too.”

Her expression must’ve given away a little too much about what had happened in relation to that, because Willow blushed a little and smirked down at the table.

“So, uh, anyway - how was your night?” Buffy asked, wanting to change the subject for both their sakes. Vicarious smoochies, occasionally, was one thing - but Willow didn’t need the deets on _everything_ that Giles did. Not even that incredibly yummy thing he could do with his tongue…

Buffy shook her head a little at herself and took another drink of her coffee to focus.

“Like a normal person’s.” Willow quipped. “Light on the action-packed.” She smiled gently then, and added, “Hope tonight’s not too much of a letdown for you excitement-wise.” She paused when Buffy didn’t immediately respond, and tried not to sound too worried as she checked, “You do remember about tonight, right?”

“Bronze. The gang. Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Buffy promised. “I miss you guys. Other than the occasional slayage stuff, we haven’t had a big Scooby hang out since Thanksgiving… which was also mostly slayage stuff.”

“You’ve been busy,” Willow shrugged a little, her tone and manner innocent, but her eyes glinted a little coyly. “Fightin’ armies and stuff. Not to mention other distractions of a more romantic nature.”

“Distracted? I’m not distracted.” Buffy protested. “Don’t tell Giles - he’s always worrying I’ll get myself knocked unconscious during patrol or something ‘cause I’m too busy thinking about him naked. As if _I’m_ the one with the record number of concussions within a single year at the Sunnydale ER.” She rolled her eyes, and both girls chuckled a little in fondness at poor Giles and his bad habit for head injuries.

Buffy slowly took another drink, her gaze drifting away as she thought about Giles in his jeans the other day, making out on her bed, the way he barely fit comfortably on the mattress - and soon enough barely seemed to fit in his jeans, either.

“Buffy.” Willow’s call brought her back to focus again. “You’re thinking about him naked right now, aren’t you.” She figured knowingly, and Buffy winced.

“Sorry.” She admitted ruefully, and Willow smirked. “At least I’m not patrolling right now! No danger for head injuries here. …And not _totally_ naked, you know. I- uh, anyway - tell me about your night.” Buffy quickly asked again, wanting the subject changed.

“Well, I spent most of it at Xander’s… teaching Anya to play poker.”

“That sounds like fun,” Buffy mused as she swallowed a long mouthful of coffee and tried to stop thinking about the different sort of _commando_ that went with Giles… and jeans…

“Yeah. Except the Anya part and the poker part.”

Buffy winced, knowing her lack of focus was still obvious, and purposely set her coffee down and folded her hands together atop the table, gripping her fingers tightly until her mind was clear and in the present.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it last night. I promise no bailing of any kind tonight, though!” Buffy assured Willow, and she smiled as she began to tuck into her lunch.

“Giles could come too, you know. He _is_ a Scooby, after all. And I’m sure Anya will be there anyway.”

“Anya’s a Scooby too, at this point, I think,” Buffy mused slowly, and Willow sighed.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Nobody’s a replacement, you know?” Buffy assured her. “It’ll always be us four, in the end. We’ve just got… some extra pals every now and then. Cordelia, and Oz… even Faith!”

“True.” Willow beamed softly. “The original four… like, the Fantastic Four! Only, we’re the Scooby Gang…”

“Let’s not mix our metaphors.” Buffy suggested. “Lest the geeks riot.”

“Good point.” Willow nodded seriously. “The Scoobies and the Slayerettes. Good enough for me.”

**— — —**

“Am I the only one with a big floating question mark over Riley’s head?” Xander wondered. “I mean, he seems okay, in an oaf-ish sort of way,”

“He’s a really nice guy.” Willow nodded as she snagged a pretzel from the bowl of mix on Giles’ coffee table.

“But there’s still heaps we don’t know about these commandos. I mean, what are they _really_ up to, what with the neutering of vampires and all?” Xander pointed out. “You guys seem so… oddly cool about him.” Xander gave Buffy and Giles an odd look, particularly Giles. “Especially you.”

“We’ve made a deal, of sorts, with the young man.” Giles replied factually, flipping open his journal to a blank page. “Buffy has revealed parts of her Slayer life to him, and in return he’s managed to persuade… _Professor Walsh_ … to get her clearance into their base.”

Buffy bit her lip and tried not to chuckle at the clear disdain in Giles’ tone for the woman.

“Seriously?” Xander gaped, hopping off the couch out from under Willow’s feet, and rounding it to lean against the back and face them, folding his arms across his chest. “You’ve been inside their lair? When did that happen? We were at the Bronze with you until closing last night.”

“Today. I called you guys as soon as I got Riley and his boys off my back.” Buffy nodded to Xander before facing Giles again. She paced casually behind Giles’ chair as she spoke. “The little tracking game the other night impressed them enough that they let me into the inner sanctum. God, Giles, it’s huge! I mean, Riley had said it was big but I didn’t think - there’s like this scanny thing in his mirror and it’s an _elevator_ that goes down - you were right! Their facility is right underneath the university. And, and Walsh gave me these documents to read - but she wouldn’t let me take them, she said they were highly classified, I tried to remember as much as I could in them for you, but there was a lot of information and all these alphabet soup names I had trouble keeping straight.”

Giles blinked, overwhelmed by her excited babbling, and hesitated for a second before setting his pen down atop the blank page and taking his glasses off. He rubbed at his nose for a moment before asking,

“A mirror? Was this in Riley’s bedroom?”

“Well, yeah, that’s where the entrance was, the one that I’m allowed to go through anyway.” Buffy replied. “It was like, keyed to me or whatever. It had a _retinal scanner_ , Giles!”

“In his bedroom.” Giles repeated, and Buffy tried to calm her excitement for a moment.

“Not so cool about commando boy, after all.” Xander noted with mild amusement, glancing over to share a look with Willow.

“Walsh probably chose that one on purpose,” Buffy mused, realizing that Giles was bothered by that, and she moved next to his chair to reach for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Really, Giles, we were barely in there for a minute. It was just another room to go through to get to the Initiative.”

“I apologize.” Giles sighed and set his glasses aside, taking her hand in his other one so that he held both of them. “I only feel it might be a bit inappropriate considering that he does - or did, very recently - have a crush on you. It’s not that I assume anything untoward happened.”

“Not like what happens when _you’re_ in _my_ room,” Buffy quipped, and Xander groaned.

“Guys, the rest of us are still right here!” He complained from where he was half-sitting, half-leaning against the back of the couch, and Willow groaned as well from her position stretched out along the cushions.

“That’s _my_ bedroom too, you know!” She complained lightly, and Giles blushed and pulled his hands from Buffy’s, turning back toward his desk as he tugged his handkerchief from his pocket and began cleaning his glasses.

“We stay out of your side of the room.” Buffy promised her innocently.

“Wh-what else can you tell me about the laboratory?” Giles requested, slipping his glasses back on and picking up his pen again. “Any details that can tell us what they’re doing?”

“There’s this big, like, pit in the center of the hangar,” Buffy considered thoughtfully, “they call it- well, ‘The Pit’.”

“Very military. Highly creative types when it comes to naming.” Xander nodded sagely.

“They have an armory too.” Buffy and Giles shared a serious look, and she pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest as she began to pace again. “And it’s not the most secure thing, from what I could tell, unless the chain-link fence was packing electricity. It was full of serious mojo, Giles. Lots of automatic this-and-thats, and things that make big booms. And other things I’ve never even seen before.”

He blinked at that, nodded, and made a note in his journal.

“They have a pretty big containment area - which I’m guessing is where Spike had been held - lots of creepy cells with padded walls and big heavy-duty glass windows. Cameras everywhere, security keypads everywhere… oh,” She went over to her bag by the door and dug through it. “They gave me these,” She brought her security card and pager to Giles’ desk so he could see them up close. “The card probably gets me in and out of the elevator, but I doubt much else. I know Walsh doesn’t really trust me yet, so I doubt anybody else does aside from Riley and maybe a couple of his friends. Oh - there’s some other highly secure area too, behind a very serious metal door that she didn’t take me near, and she changed the subject pretty quickly when I asked about it.”

“Hmm…” Giles sat thoughtfully for a few moments as he fingered the rather boring-looking ID badge. “You hadn’t happened to see, or overhear, anything concerning ‘three-fourteen’, have you?”

“Three-fourteen?” Buffy furrowed her brow, then shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Something Ethan said, before, when -” Giles paused, and glanced up toward her. She raised her eyebrow down at him.

“When you went on a pub crawl with your old mate?” She drawled, and he huffed.

“It was _one_ bar… granted, there had been enough drinking for three or four…”

“I’m amazed you can remember anything at all from that night.”

“At least I didn’t turn into a neanderthal.” He grumbled.

“No - you turned into _a demon_.” She reminded him pointedly.

“Heyyyy, Willow, need a refill on that soda?” Xander asked loudly, straightening and moving back around the couch to fetch their two glasses from the table.

“Yes, please, I would definitely like more soda.” Willow answered him in the same tone of voice, and both Buffy and Giles paused.

“Sorry.” Buffy mumbled to her friends, and promised, “We’re done with the spatting.” In apology to Giles, she brushed her fingers briefly against the back of his neck, and he gave her a soft smile in return, a silent apology of his own.

“So… big ol’ mysterious government lab… are they neutering other demons, too? Like they did Spike?” Xander wondered from the kitchen, and Giles looked up at Buffy expectantly.

“Maybe? One of the science guys said they wanted to study how these demons defend themselves… he kind of sounded weird about it.” She frowned, and then shrugged. “But science guys are weird, right? That’s not unusual.”

“I wonder _why_ they’re doing it, though,” Willow thought out loud. “Making the demons all… non-violent I mean. What’s the endgame? Are they gonna like, rehabilitate them, get them jobs as bagboys at Walmart?”

“A very good question.” Giles frowned deeply, as well, and scribbled something else into his journal.

“Also…” Buffy made a weird face. “I’m pretty sure I heard Riley say to his team that ‘ _Mom_ was calling’? As in, Walsh.”

“Ooo, are we psychoanalyzing the psych boy now?” Xander asked excitedly, setting down the drinks on the coffee table before picking up the bowl of snacks and flopping onto the couch on top of Willow’s legs. She grimaced, and tugged a leg free to kick at him.

“I’m just saying… there’s a _lot_ that Riley doesn’t know, that he just blindly accepts. And the way Walsh treats him… it’s different from the other commandos. I think he’s a favorite. And I think we gotta be careful with that.”

“ _You_ need to be careful.” Willow corrected her gently, and Buffy nodded.

The pager on the desk started beeping suddenly, making Giles startle in surprise, and Buffy picked it up to check the number, though she remembered what Walsh had told her - the Initiative were the only ones who would call it.

“That’s them?” Giles asked, and she nodded as he handed her the ID badge back. “Be careful, Buffy.” He murmured seriously.

She nodded, and pressed a quick kiss against the side of his temple.

“I’ll see what’s up, see you guys after?”

“We’ll be here,” Xander promised, stuffing a mouthful of party mix into his mouth.

“Joy.” Giles muttered sarcastically, though Buffy could see that he was pleased, as well. He missed their summer hangouts more than he let on. She sent him a little grin, and then tucked her things back into her bag and headed out the door.

**... ... ...**

She _knew_ she’d been getting weird vibes from Walsh… but this - this was just disappointing.

Buffy took a moment to catch her breath and bring her thoughts into a bit more order, before getting back to her feet and reaching for the abandoned comm unit on the floor.

“Professor Walsh?” Buffy held up the little camera thing so that it was pointed toward her face. She had no idea if Walsh was still observing her or not, but she’d bet money that the footage was being recorded either way. “That simple little recon you sent me on… wasn’t a raccoon. Turns out it was _me_ trapped in the sewers, with a faulty weapon and two of your pet demons.” She took a breath, speaking seriously and calmly, “If you think that’s enough to kill me, you really don’t know what a Slayer is. Trust me when I say you’re gonna find out.”

She dropped the highly-priced tech onto the ground and stomped on it, crushing it to pieces.

She didn’t want to wait around for any more surprises Walsh might have for her, so she hauled up the heavy iron gate and high-tailed it out of the sewers, heading straight back for Giles’. She needed to tell the others about this development - and she needed to make sure they hadn’t been targeted already, either.

She couldn’t say for sure that Riley himself was in on this - he seemed genuinely excited to be working alongside her, and learning about Slayers and Watchers. But she also couldn’t say for sure that he _wasn’t_ some kind of threat, simply being as close to Maggie Walsh as he was. And he knew who Giles was, now, and knew where he worked. Riley would easily be able to figure out where Giles lived, as well.

**... ... ...**

“Buffy being in there undercover? Alone? I don’t know if this is safe,” Xander was saying as Buffy arrived back at the apartment.

“It isn’t safe.” She informed them gravely, closing and locking the door behind her. “For any of us.”

Giles was still sitting at his desk, though Xander - and Anya, who must’ve shown up while Buffy was out - was sitting atop the weapons chest by the bar and Willow was perched on the stool next to them. Giles got to his feet when he heard the tone in Buffy’s voice.

“What’s happened?” He asked, his Watcher’s gaze checking her over quickly for any sign of injury.

“I’m alright,” Buffy verbally brushed aside his concern for her physical well-being, and began to pace in front of his desk as she gathered her thoughts. “So I get to the compound, and there’s been some sort of alarm thing tripped. The other guys are apparently out on some mission, so Walsh sends me down into the sewers with one of those blasto-guns, and the next thing I know, it’s raining monsters.”

“Hallelujah.” Xander grimaced.

“And then this gate slams down behind me, and I try to use the gun, but it goes ‘pfft’.” She gestured an explosion with her hands.

“You’re saying that Maggie Walsh… set you up?” Giles asked, frowning.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Buffy told him seriously. This wasn’t the sort of accusation someone made lightly. “She sent me on a one-way recon.”

Giles stared silently for a moment, his frown still firmly in place, but she could see in his eyes that he was formulating something.

“Do you think Riley is in on it?” Xander asked, and Buffy paused, thinking that idea over again.

“Walsh made sure he was nowhere around when she sent me on this very special ‘make Buffy dead’ assignment,” Buffy noted.

“Plus, Riley?” Willow made a dubious face. “He seems like he wouldn’t tell a little _white_ lie, let alone a whole bunch of big dirty ones.”

Buffy noticed Giles wrench his glasses off of his face, and his jaw clench tightly. He was still silent, though.

“That’s why they call it the _secret_ forces, Will,” Xander explained, “cause they kinda keep the whole lying thing to themselves.”

“All I do know is that Walsh has it in for me, which means the Initiative has it in for me.” This was exactly what she _didn’t_ want.

“I’m guessing the mad scientist isn’t too keen on the fact that the entire Scooby Gang knows that the Initiative is up to no good.” Xander mused.

“Which brings us back to the ‘not safe for any of us’ concept.” Buffy said softly.

“Get up.” Giles tossed his glasses onto his desk as he ordered Xander and Anya, and Anya immediately jumped to her feet at his growl, before she then furrowed her brow at him in confusion. Xander stayed put atop the weapons chest, eyeing Giles warily.

“What are you thinking, G-man?” He asked carefully.

“I’m thinking that- that _woman_ tried to get my Slayer _killed_ , in a- a cowardly trap no less, and I should like to give her a piece of my mind.” He gestured impatiently at Xander to stand, but the younger man only raised his eyebrow.

“And a piece of a blade?”

“ _Yes_ , if that’s a language she’ll more clearly understand.” Giles replied firmly, his ire growing.

“Giles!” Buffy got his attention, and shook her head at him. “You can’t just go storming in there, do you _remember_ the armory I mentioned? Besides the fact we have no idea if this was just one phase in a larger plan,”

“What could have happened to make Professor Walsh want to _kill_ you?” Giles wondered, frustrated and confused. The last either of them had seen, she’d been fascinated in Buffy, excited about - no doubt - the opportunity to study the Slayer.

“I don’t know. She wasn’t keen on the fact that I was asking a lot of questions during my ‘tour’ of the place, that’s for sure.” Buffy softened her tone, keeping her gaze locked to Giles until he visibly calmed down a bit.

“So you were getting too close to something.” Anya figured, slowly settling back down atop the weapons chest next to Xander.

“Clearly.” Giles grumbled, lowering his eyes and folding his arms tightly across his chest, pacing behind his desk. Buffy wasn’t so sure she liked him being that close to the door, not when he still looked about half-cocked ready to rush out and burn down the Initiative. However, he did seem to be thinking with his brain again as he mumbled, “One can only imagine what she’d be so desperate to hide.”

“Three-fourteen?” Buffy guessed, and Giles lifted his gaze from the floor to meet her eyes again.

After a beat, Giles’ words registered in Buffy’s mind and she made a decision. Whether or not Riley was a part of this attack or not, Walsh herself knew that Giles was connected to Buffy in some way, knew that he was important to her. They couldn’t stay here.

“Alright everyone, grab a weapon. We’ve gotta move.” She approached Xander and Anya again and tugged Xander up off the chest.

“I thought you just decided storming the Initiative was a _bad_ idea.” Xander protested, shuffling to the side as Anya joined him before she got manhandled by Buffy as well.

“I was thinking more that we’d hide. We need to relocate someplace that we’re less likely to be found. We need to come up with a plan.” She gave Giles a look as he opened his mouth. “A _better_ plan.” He closed his mouth and pursed his lips, but didn’t argue.

“We could go to my place.” Willow offered.

“Riley’s buddies know how close we are.” Buffy shook her head. “They’ll automatically check the places that you hang out. Xander - what about your basement? The guys haven’t seen _us_ together that much, and there’s enough room.” She had to hope that Riley wouldn’t use his knowledge of the Scoobies against her, whether intentionally or otherwise.

“Ohh, plus, mirror ball.” Willow grinned.

“Cool.” Xander nodded in agreement. “Come on down and boogie at Xander’s Hideaway.”

“Yes. Come boogie.” Anya muttered, not in as much agreement. Giles wasn’t in agreement to the idea, either.

“Absolutely not. I will not squat in that dank hole.”

“What, it’s good enough for me but rabble-rousing, demon-summoning, magic-druggie Ripper is above it all?” Xander sassed, and Giles pursed his lips again.

“Precisely.” Then he added, “Besides, I don’t see why we can’t stay right where we are. It’s very unlikely those Initiative boys are going to come around here to look for our -”

“Of course it’s likely!” Buffy argued incredulously, but was interrupted before she could continue.

“Buffy!” Riley burst into the house, and Buffy gestured her hand toward him in point as she gave Giles a look.

“Riley.” She greeted him guardedly.

“God, Buffy, are you okay?” Riley barely got the question out before Giles had pushed his back against the closed door with a slam, his forearm against the younger man’s throat.

“Giles!” Buffy exclaimed.

“Explain yourself. Now.” Giles ordered Riley, ignoring the others murmured exclamations of discomfort. They hadn’t really seen Giles lose his cool this much since the first time Ethan had shown up in town.

“I kn-know something went down,” Riley grimaced against the chokehold, looking toward Buffy, but didn’t struggle too much against Giles. He wasn’t really putting up a fight, and Buffy had heard the honest concern in his voice when he’d first entered.

“Walsh tried to kill me.” Buffy informed him, eyeing Giles as she carefully approached them. Riley’s brow furrowed in disbelief, and then in pain.

“It didn’t work, but we’re all still angry anyway.” Anya piped up behind them, and a part of Buffy was touched that the ex-demon actually did seem to care about more than just being with Xander.

“There- there has to be some kind of mistake,” Riley tried, and then choked when Giles leaned his arm more heavily against his throat.

“There was no mistake. Your boss just tried to make monster food out of her.” Xander returned, angry and suspicious. “And how do you know something happened?”

Riley glanced at him over Giles’ shoulder, and then back to Giles before answering,

“I was… on a mission. But I c-came back and… all I know is Professor Walsh told me you were dead. And- and then I,” He grimaced again, and Buffy lightly touched Giles’ back.

“Let him talk.” She murmured, and Giles loosened his hold… slightly. Riley took a few breaths before continuing,

“Then I saw you on the monitors… look, this isn’t Professor Walsh. There must be something making her act this way, something I- I don’t know, controlling her.” Riley insisted.

“We think Buffy may have been becoming too inquisitive.” Giles told him, the threat still very obvious in his carefully controlled tone of voice. “That she was getting close to something that Walsh was trying to hide. Any idea what that might be?”

“What about three-fourteen?” Buffy quickly added, flattening her palm against Giles’ lower back, reminding him that she was there and that he shouldn’t kill Riley.

“Maybe she was trying to test you!” Riley tried. “What if it was only a drill?”

“Then why did she tell you I was dead?” Buffy pointed out gently. She could see that his whole worldview was changing - they were talking about a woman he’d unflinchingly followed for at least the last year, if not longer. “Riley, it wasn’t a test.”

“See, I’ve heard rumors,” Giles said, rather snidely, “that the Initiative isn’t all that we’ve been told. That, secretly, they’re working towards some darker purpose, something that might harm us all,”

“No!” Riley interrupted, desperation in his eyes. “That’s- that’s not what happens there.”

“Riley,” Buffy started, when he began to struggle more against Giles.

“I would know!” He was starting to panic.

“Let him go, Giles.” Buffy quickly ordered her Watcher, gripping the back of his sweater ready to pull him forcefully back if she needed to. He lowered his arm and stepped back however, giving Riley space to stand on his own and catch his breath, but he didn’t move away very far. “No one is sure of anything, okay,” Buffy soothed Riley’s panic, “We’re trying to sort it out.”

“I can’t be here.” He looked warily between Giles and everyone else, rubbing at his neck. “I’ll sort it out on my own.”

“Riley,” Buffy tried to stop him as he twisted his arm behind him to open up the door.

“No! I just…” He looked at Giles again. “You don’t trust me. And I don’t… I don’t know who to trust anymore.” His eyes were weary, and Buffy used her grip on Giles to tug him back another step, giving Riley enough room to slip out the door.

The Scoobies stood in unsure silence for a moment, and Buffy slowly smoothed out Giles’ rumpled sweater before letting him go.

“He’s not the one who tried to kill me, Giles.” Buffy murmured, and he sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his face as he turned toward her.

“I know.” He admitted. He lowered his hand, and gave her an apologetic look. “Even had he been given orders to do so, he still obviously cares for you too much to have followed them.”

Buffy gave him a small smile, and touched her fingers against the front of his sweater.

“Things are going to get heavier. His whole world’s falling apart. We shouldn’t… we shouldn’t alienate him yet. He might help us.”

“Do you think he’ll side with us?” Willow wondered. “Or lash out against us?”

“Both are a possibility.” Giles sighed heavily, and rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling in dismay. “I suppose I should pack a change of clothes, then.”

Buffy patted his chest, and turned to Xander.

“You two mind going ahead? Get the place ready how you see fit for all of us to be there?” Xander nodded, and he and Anya headed out. “Willow, I’m not so sure about us returning to campus right now. We’ll stop by my house, then yours, to get ourselves some clothes too.”

“Good point.” Willow sighed sadly and moped, “My favorite pj’s are at the dorms.”

**... ... ...**

It was the middle of the night, and everyone else had fallen asleep except for Buffy. She hadn’t been in Xander’s place enough times for it to be familiar to her, plus, she couldn’t stop worrying about the Initiative somehow finding them. Visions of entire squads of army guys showing up to cart them away kept dancing behind her eyelids. Maybe they should’ve split up - but it was too late now.

Everyone else was peacefully snoozing.

She sighed, and silently slipped out of the sofa-bed that she’d been sharing with Anya and Willow, then tiptoed toward the hanging sheets that separated their part of the room from the guys.

That had been a rule that Giles had insisted on, immediately - girls in one ‘room’, guys in the other. No one had argued, though Anya had pouted a little for a good hour about it. Buffy was exhausted now, though, and sleep would also help her recover faster from her fight in the sewers. If she wasn’t going to be able to get that sleep tonight, the least she could do was make herself more comfortable - and that was with Giles.

He was, amusingly, lounging across a couple pieces of blow-up furniture that Xander must’ve found in some boxes in the corner, and Xander himself was sprawled beside him on a few piles of blankets and a sleeping bag.

Buffy knelt beside Xander, and shook his shoulder.

“Xander.” She whispered his name, and he didn’t respond. She shook him again. “Xan.”

“Wha- hmm?” He half-awoke, blearily. “Buff? The bathroom’s upstairs to the right.” He yawned and rolled onto his side away from her, and Buffy shook his shoulder again before he drifted off.

“Switch with me.” She requested, and he rolled onto his back again to squint an eye open at her.

“Huh?”

“Switch with me.” She whispered again, not really asking. She sat back on her haunches as he sighed and sat up, pushing the sleeping bag off of him.

“You’re asking me to spend the rest of the night in a bed next to two gorgeous women?” He checked, still half-asleep, and Buffy smiled a little bit at him, and nodded. “I won’t argue.” He proclaimed, quietly unzipping his sleeping bag and crawling out of it.

Once he was gone on the other side of the ‘curtains’, Buffy looked back toward Giles, who hadn’t moved. His mouth was parted slightly in slumber, his breaths heavy and relaxed, but she could tell by the slight furrow in his brow that the chair… thing… he was sleeping on was not all that comfortable.

There was a half-finished cup of tea on the little stool serving as a bedside table, and on the other side of him were a pile of books that made her smirk a little in amusement. While the other four of them had been watching television until they began to nod off, he’d secluded himself away and read for a few hours. Buffy hadn’t minded; she knew he needed his solitude and he wasn’t getting much of it in these last twenty-four hours.

Carefully, she curled up atop Xander’s abandoned ‘bed’ and tucked her hands beneath her head, facing Giles to watch him sleep. She didn’t often get to watch him sleep; he was always awake before her in the mornings she would stay over at his place. Wishing she could sooth that deep wrinkle in his brow, she slipped her hand beneath his blanket and found his arm, stroking it slowly.

The skin around the corners of his eyes tightened slightly, like the hint of a coming smile, and it was the only tell that he gave for being awake.

“I sincerely hope that isn’t Xander’s hand.” He mumbled, and then slowly opened his eyes toward her, and she gave him a small smile.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She whispered, sliding her hand down further until she found his, and slipped her fingers between his.

“Come here,” He murmured, tugging her closer with his grip, and using his other hand to lift the blanket up for her to crawl underneath with him.

She rose up to her knees beside him, but eyed the chair warily.

“I doubt my addition would _add_ to your comfort level there, Giles,” She hesitated, and he shook his head, blinking sleepily.

“Nonsense.” He tugged her hand again, and she very carefully arranged herself in the space between his hip and the arm of the chair, her legs curled over his and her body nestled half on top of his side. He curled his arm around her shoulders and tucked the blanket around them both, releasing a quiet sigh after she rested her head on his chest.

Her right arm was trapped between them and she didn’t want to wiggle around for fear of elbowing him in the ribs, but she could wrap her left arm across his belly and she did that, closing her eyes as she felt and listened to him breathe.

He fell back asleep fairly quickly, and Buffy contented herself to spend the rest of the night like this. She could sneak back over onto the bed on the floor before the others woke up - just so they wouldn’t think any fooling around had happened while they were right on the other side of a couple of hanging sheets.

She lay there waiting for one of the others to poke their head around the makeshift wall, wondering what all the squeaking noise from the plastic air-furniture had been about, but the basement was silent other than Anya’s snoring and Willow’s occasional inaudible mumbling.

Buffy hadn’t actually expected to fall asleep, until the next thing she knew her bed was attempting to shift beneath her and there was early morning light peeking through the small basement windows.

“Bloody… mirror ball.” Giles grumbled, and Buffy blinked awake suddenly. She shifted her head back on his chest, wanting to look up at him without actually moving too much - she wasn’t sure how much this ‘furniture’ would actually take. “Sorry, luv. Go back to sleep.” He murmured soothingly, tilting his head closer to his shoulder so that the glare of reflecting light wasn’t directly hitting his eyelid.

Buffy nuzzled her cheek against his soft t-shirt, relaxing again even as she stretched her legs slightly over his, brushing her toes against the top of his foot. Even if their sleeping situation wasn’t the most comfortable, he was warm and she loved the feeling of his body against hers.

“Buffy,” He whispered, and she realized she was still rubbing his foot with her own.

“Sorry.” She chuckled silently, settling herself and ‘casually’ stretching her arm… brushing over the front of his pajama pants. He had a little bit of a hard-on going on, and she smiled indulgently to herself, slow to return to her previous relaxed position, letting her hand linger on the inside of his thigh, close to his groin.

“Don’t.” He huffed, sounding more amused than anything. “I’m finally comfortable right now and _that_ does _not_ need any attention.”

“Seems like it might.” Buffy replied innocently, slowly sliding her hand over his bulge.

“I will _not_ get off while sitting on this- this condom of a chair!” He hissed under his breath, and Buffy snorted before she could quiet her giggles.

“Oh? Above all that, are you?” She teased, deciding not to torture him any longer and resting her arm back atop his belly.

“Precisely.” He grumbled, shifting his hips a little. The chair ‘grumbled’ back, and Buffy’s body shook with another giggle. “Stop that!” Giles protested, giggling a little as well at the ridiculousness of it all, which of course only made the chair squeak even worse.

“Okay, okay,” She whispered as she caught her breath, and slithered out of the chair and back onto the pad of blankets beside it. Giles pouted at her, and she reached up to take the outstretched hand that had previously been holding her. “Neither of us is going to sleep any more if I stay up there.” She informed him knowingly, and he sighed in acceptance of that, and tangled their fingers so that their hands would stay together even after they fell asleep again.

**... ... ...**

“Aww, so cute!” Willow’s crooning voice brought Buffy back into consciousness, and she squinted her eyes open with a mildly annoyed frown. “Look, they fell asleep holding hands!”

“Must we have the noise?” Giles grumbled fussily. “My head is splitting.” Buffy felt him pull his hand away from hers and she pushed herself up to sit as she rubbed her eyes clear.

“Well, look who’s cranky bear in the morning,” Willow mused fondly.

“Yes, I can’t imagine why I didn’t sleep well in my beach ball.” Giles snarked as he shuffled to his feet and slowly rotated his back, stretching carefully.

“Every time you moved, it made squeaky noises.” Anya commented. “It was irritating.”

Buffy bit her lip and hoped none of them noticed the slight flush on her face as she glanced up at Giles.

“Really? I’m surprised you could hear it over your Wagnerian snoring.” Giles returned, and Buffy hopped to her feet as well, mostly because sitting there looking up at him all ruffled and warm and sleepy was… making her think things she shouldn’t be thinking with everyone else in the room.

“Okay, you guys? Could we not, please.” Buffy requested. “Everything’s screwed up enough without you two doing scenes from my parent’s marriage.”

“Sorry.” Anya mumbled, to both her and Giles, and he returned an even quieter apology as he ducked his head and brushed his fingers through his hair.

“Thank you.” Buffy said more softly, and Willow gave her a little smile before leading the way back into the other side of the room. After a beat, Anya poked her head back around the curtain, her expression brightened.

“Thanks for switching with Xander last night, Buffy. Even if I do think it’s unfair that you two got to have orgasms and the rest of us didn’t.”

“Bloody hell.” Giles exclaimed, stumbling against the blow-up chair again as he was trying to dig his toothbrush out of his duffel bag. It made an ungodly rubbery squeaking noise again, and Giles wrestled with it for a moment before finally cursing again and kicking it with his foot.

“Oh my God, we _did not_ do that.” Buffy protested.

“But it was so squeaky.” Anya frowned, confused, and Willow appeared again and grabbed Anya’s shoulders.

“Sorry.” Willow winced and tugged Anya back on the other side of the curtain. Buffy stared at it suspiciously for a moment, having also noticed the amused smile Willow had been attempting to hide.

“We didn’t!” Buffy insisted toward the curtain.

When Buffy looked back at Giles, he had his toothbrush clenched in the fist propped on his hip, and his other hand was rubbing his eyes as he tilted his head up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“You are a bit of a cranky bear this morning,” Buffy teased him gently, combing her fingers through her hair and using the tie around her wrist to sling it up into a messy bun. “A very cute cranky bear.”

She slid her hands around his waist when she was finished with her hair, nestling fully against his back and sliding her palms against the front of his shirt. He smelled like warm, sleepy, Giles, and she nuzzled her nose against his back. He sighed, and she felt him physically relax as he lowered his hand to cover one of hers.

“My bed was uncomfortable and I was, ehm, aroused almost all night long - of course I’m cranky.” He grumbled, too lowly for any of the others to hear. “Being so close to you, but unable to hold you the way I wanted to… to touch you…” He slowly stroked the pads of his fingers along her knuckles, between her fingers, and though it was a relatively chaste touch, he made it sensual. She shivered against him, and pressed her mouth against his shoulder blade. Then he squeezed her hand lovingly for a moment before gently twisting out of her grasp. “Go join the others, love. I’ll be out in a moment.” He kissed her forehead and then nudged her toward the curtain.

Willow and Anya were both curled up on the couch again, watching cartoons on the tv, and Xander wasn’t in sight. Buffy reclaimed her spot on the bed and snuggled beneath one of the blankets as well, quietly watching Wile E. Coyote’s always-unsuccessful attempts to catch the Road Runner.

“That would never happen.” Buffy frowned at the console as a wrecking ball smashed a half-moon shape out of a plank of wood.

“Well, no, Buff. That’s why they call them cartoons, not documentaries.” Willow replied teasingly.

Okay, maybe Buffy was a little cranky and distracted, too.

Giles shuffled out to join them, his toothbrush sticking out of the corner of his closed mouth, as he glowered and hit the knob on the tv to turn it off.

“Cranky bear,” Willow sing-songed under her breath, giggly.

“Maybe you _should_ have had orgasms last night.” Anya commented sagely. “Xander rarely wakes up cranky after we’ve had sex before sleep. Well, unless it was particularly enthusiastic sex - then he wakes up sore, and _that_ makes him a little cranky,” She considered for a moment, while Buffy and Willow grimaced at one another and Giles groaned and stared up at the ceiling again as he muttered something around his toothbrush that Buffy was eighty-percent sure wasn’t in English. “But then we just have more sex, and he isn’t cranky anymore!” Anya finished brightly.

“Dear lord, one wonders how you two get any work done.” Giles snarked half-under his breath, before continuing to brush his teeth.

“Actually, sometimes we -”

Buffy could guess where that one was going, and quickly elbowed Anya beneath the blanket even as Giles eyes’ sharpened and began to look suspicious. Then, Xander hopped down the basement steps, a tray full of bagels and juice in his hands.

“Turn on the tv. Now!” He told them urgently, having no idea of the conversation going on.

_“Sunnydale is still reeling from news of the crime.”_ A newslady was speaking toward the camera, _“A source in the coroner’s office tells us that the boy was stabbed with what looks like some kind of large skewer, and his body was then mutilated. Police have not named a suspect, and the killer is still at large.”_

“The Polgara demon had a skewer in its arm.” Buffy remembered, growing horrified not only at the news of a murdered child, but also at what this information revealed when coupled with what she already knew. “That’s the one that Walsh insisted we bring back alive, when I was on that patrol with the commando squad.”

“She sent it after you? And it got distracted?” Willow guessed, her own voice quiet and breathless with horror as well.

“…You had _sex_ … in _my_ shop?!” Giles, his mouth half-full of toothpaste, demanded of Anya and Xander, the latter of which who’d only just set down the breakfast tray on the end of the bed. Xander whirled around to gape at him in confusion and incredulousness.

“How did we get there?!” He exclaimed, turning toward Anya, and she shifted uncomfortably and looked down.

“I didn’t say anything,” She insisted in a mumble, “Giles just guessed.”

“Giles has half a mind to fire you right now!” Giles huffed seriously.

“I was on my half-hour break!” Anya insisted.

“That’s not the point!” Giles returned.

“Guys, maybe now’s not the time?” Willow hesitantly pointed out, and they were silent for a beat, successfully shamed into remembering that there was a murder to deal with.

“God.” Buffy cursed softly, inwardly kicking herself. She should have patrolled last night, after everyone had gotten to Xander’s, or something.

“Buffy, it’s not your fault,” Willow hurriedly soothed, wanting the conversation to stay focused now, and recognizing the pain in her friend’s tone. “How could you know?”

“She’s right. You mustn’t blame yourself.” Giles added softly. Xander shook his head in agreement with them.

“I’m not going to.” Buffy assured them slowly as she began to form a plan. She crawled to her feet to stand next to the couch, and stated firmly, “I’m going to the crime scene to see what I can find out. You guys research the Polgara demon. I wanna know where it is. When I find it, I’m gonna make it pay for taking that kid’s life. I’ll make him die in ways he can’t even imagine.”

Giles slowly pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth, and Willow gave her a half-smile of encouragement. Buffy took in their still half-sleepy, rumpled expressions, and then looked down at her own attire.

“That probably would have sounded more commanding if I wasn’t wearing my yummy sushi pajamas.” She admitted.

**... ... ...**

When Buffy and Riley’s conversation had grown quiet for a minute, Giles hesitantly poked his head out from the curtains to check on things. Buffy gave him a small, worried smile as she slowly stroked Riley’s sweat-dampened hair, trying to lull him to sleep.

“Riley seriously lost it in Willy’s today…” Buffy murmured in concern. She felt very maternal all of a sudden as he lay there curled up in as much of a ball as his tall frame could manage, slowly and fussily falling asleep.

She was hoping to at least calm him enough for him to get some rest. There was something going on with him, and she had a serious feeling that the more hyper and anxious he got, the worse it would be for him. As he eventually settled, Buffy carefully drew her hand away, and waited for a beat to make sure he wouldn’t wake up again. Then, she straightened up and joined Giles and the others on the other side of the basement.

There was only understanding and concern in Giles’ eyes, and for a moment Buffy was overwhelmed with affection and appreciation for him.

“How is he?” Giles asked softly, and Buffy rubbed his arm in a meager gesture of her feelings.

Emotionally, she was a bit all over the place at the moment. Between the sight of what was left of that poor young boy’s body, and the news that Riley had told her before he’d lost his head… there was a lot more going on here than just a rogue demon on the loose.

“This isn’t just grief making him act this way. Something’s affecting him physically, and it’s getting worse.” Buffy informed them worriedly.

“Think Professor Walsh did something to him?” Anya wondered.

When she and Riley had first arrived back at Xander’s, Buffy had told them about what had happened at the crime scene, and at Willy’s Bar - Place, whatever - and a condensed version of what Riley had told her about the Initiative being under total lockdown. They were under an internal investigation from the government as well, after Walsh had been found severely wounded and unconscious in one of the labs.

When Riley had first told her that news, she’d worried for a moment that Giles had let his anger get the better of him. But then, Riley had explained the skewering, and that let Giles off the hook. For now, anyway… Buffy knew that he was still pissed about Walsh’s attempt on her life.

“I don’t know, but I’m ready to find out.” Buffy answered Anya's question determinedly. Walsh had been found in room three-fourteen - that couldn’t be a coincidence.

“That’s gonna be tough, what with Walsh’s unconsciousness and all.” Xander pointed out.

“She must’ve kept records somewhere - about Riley, about three-fourteen, about all of it. And I’m _sure_ she wasn’t the only person that knew what she was up to.” Buffy reasoned.

“So. What’s the plan?” Xander asked, ready for orders.

“Giles, Anya, keep researching,” Buffy requested, and Giles glanced up from the small box of books he’d brought from the shop that he was now rifling through, and nodded. “Willow should already be with Tara by now, working on that demon-finder spell.” She’d been consulting enough with the people in Devon that they trusted her for this task, even if they weren’t entirely convinced - Willow included - that it was going to work. The attempt was better than nothing, in any case. “Xander, you and I are going undercover.”

Xander nodded, but Anya frowned and stepped closer to him.

“Hey! You wanna lead my boyfriend to his certain death? I don’t think so. Take your own boyfriend.” She protested.

“Xander’s the only one with military experience.” Buffy pointed out.

“It’s not like he was in the ‘Nam. He was G.I. Joe for one night!” Anya argued, and Xander looked touched by her concern, but tried to soothe her,

“It’s okay, Anya. I’ve backed up Buffy before.” He took Anya’s hands in his own and rubbed them comfortingly.

“Can’t you do something else to help them? Xerox handouts or something?”

Buffy quietly sighed and looked toward Giles, understanding Anya’s concern but not having the wherewithal to deal with it. If she and Giles worried about each other like this every time one of them went out on a patrol or a mission…

She and Giles shared a small smile at one another, silently communicating their own concerns and understanding that it was better not to voice those concerns.

“I’ll be careful.” Xander promised Anya, and Buffy was surprised and pleased to note just how earnestly he cared and shared understanding with his own girlfriend. “Promise.” He slipped his hands up and squeezed Anya’s shoulders, before moving away to start gathering his gear.

“It’s a minor point, but how do you plan to get into the Initiative?” Giles asked Buffy as he straightened to stand again. “I’m sure their security system’s almost impenetrable.” His brow was furrowed deeply with concern that didn’t only include how they were going to get themselves into the building.

He might not voice all of his true worries, but Buffy could still read them in his eyes.

“Judging by the timing of Walsh’s attack, I probably still have my security clearance,” Buffy answered, patting her front pocket where her key card was still tucked away. “I’m hoping she didn’t have time to revoke it.”

“Okay.” Giles nodded in understanding, held her gaze for a moment, and then dropped his eyes back toward the box of books at his feet. “A-as for the whereabouts of this Polgara demon, I’m afraid we’ve not turned up much. There have been no reports since its original capture.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep looking.” Buffy decided, her tone determined again, and when Giles looked back toward her to nod again, she reached up to brush her palm against the side of his face in a fond gesture. He quirked a brief smile at her, and then she nodded as well and lowered her hand to slip around him and join Xander.

“I’m guessing I’m commando-man.” Xander mused. “What about you? You mentioned they don’t seem to be very progressive when it comes to having ladies in the ranks,”

“Yeah… but I think I can pull off being a scientist or researcher or something,” Buffy mused aloud as she found some old file folders in a box in the corner. There was a clipboard sticking out of it too - perfect.

She quickly mentally went over what clothes she’d brought from home - she had a sweater that would do, and khaki pants that looked fairly ‘business’ enough at first glance. She highly doubted most of the commandos would know the difference, anyway. She could put her hair up in a bun, give her a more mature, even severe kind of look, and lighten up on the make-up that she was still using to this day to cover up her age difference a little.

Maybe that was pointless, now that they were all out of high school there was plenty of variety in the ages of the students at UC, but… it had simply become a habit. Giles - and Willow, being her roommate - were the only two people who ever saw Buffy completely without make-up at times. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable, all the time, with how she had faint shadows of lines near her eyes that Willow did not.

Glasses! Giles always looked younger without his glasses.

“Can I borrow those?” She turned back toward where he’d knelt down in front of his books again, and he blinked up at her in confusion. She gestured at the glasses dangling between his fingers. “You have an extra pair at home, right? Can I borrow those? I need to pass off as a nerd.” Plus, they would make her look a little older.

Giles narrowed his eyes, giving her an unappreciative look, and she rolled her eyes as she propped her hands on her hips.

“What? It’s not like I said looking like a nerd was a _bad_ thing.” She glanced over to find Xander giving her a dubious expression, and she huffed. “Please?” She asked Giles, and he sighed and handed them over.

“They won’t fit you very well,” He warned, and she slipped them on and then grimaced.

“Geez, you’re blind!”

“I’m not _blind_ ,” He grumbled, “I just don’t have _Slayer vision_.” Then in a slightly more normal tone, if more dry as well, he requested, “Do try to bring them back in one piece? I do have an extra pair, yes, but glasses can get expensive to replace when one needs to buy new ones every few months or so…”

**... ... ...**

“Seems pretty quiet.” Xander commented as they hesitantly entered the dormitory where Riley and many of the other commandos lived. Buffy was about to open her mouth and comment, but then some guy with a bookbag brushed by them in a hurry, his head ducked and not saying a word.

Buffy and Xander shared a look, and then quickened their steps a bit to Riley’s room. She’d left him back in the basement to rest, but not before snagging his room key from him.

They didn’t see anyone else before they slipped into the bedroom and Buffy went to the wall mirror to activate the scanner.

She squared her shoulders as she stepped back in a good position for the scanner to read over her, and hoped that if this _did_ fail, it wouldn’t open up some kind of trap door or something into a spike pit beneath their feet.

Maybe she’d watched Indiana Jones one too many times. They needed to vary up their Scooby movie nights.

“Buff, maybe you should check the look later,” Xander commented, stepping up next to her, and she hurriedly shoved him out of the way.

“Shh!”

“Ow!” He landed heavily against Riley’s tall dresser, and gaped incredulously at her. “What’d you do that for?”

“Sorry,” She winced as she glanced over at him. Maybe she’d pushed him a little too hard. “I’m the only one that can pass the retinal scan.”

“The- ew!” Xander exclaimed. “I don’t wanna see that!”

Buffy stared at him for a beat. Maybe Scooby movie nights needed to be Scooby Scrabble nights, sometimes.

“ _Retinal_ scan, Xander.” She heard the machinery in the wall stir to life, and faced the mirror again. “Well, we’ll know in a few seconds whether my security clearance is still good.”

“Or if we’re about to die at the hands of fifty grief-fueled military goons.” Xander quipped wryly.

“Retinal scan recorded. Summers, Buffy.” The disembodied voice announced without emotion, and the mirror slid upward as the wall split into two, the doors opening to reveal the elevator waiting within.

“Why am I not entirely comfortable with the arrival of the man-sized microwave?” Xander hesitantly followed Buffy into the disturbingly white room.

It didn’t escape Buffy’s notice that the elevator matched the ‘decor’ of the demon holding cells down below. It was as if the commandos that used it were being subtly accustomed to the design, as if… and okay, maybe she was reading too much into the whole ‘psychology professor’ cover thing.

She and Xander quietly prepared themselves as the elevator began to go down; he shook his shoulders and danced on his toes a bit, expelling his nervous energy before squaring his feet and lifting his chin just slightly in a way that somehow immediately made him look exactly like he belonged with the rest of the commandos. Meanwhile, Buffy unfolded the lab coat she’d had tucked in her hands along with the prop files and clipboard, and slipped it on, buttoning it up and straightening the pen in the front pocket.

They only had one chance to make a first impression of _not_ making an impression, so it had to be good.

“Holy moly,” Xander gaped as the doors opened and they stepped out onto the scaffolding, losing his act for a moment as he got his first look at the hangar.

“I know.” Buffy muttered, not nearly as impressed by it now as she had been at first. Now, the scope of this place was a threat.

“I totally get it now. How did you _not_ have sex with Riley? And can I?”

Buffy slowly turned to stare at him incredulously, but he was still gaping at everything. She wrapped her hand around his bicep perhaps a little firmer than necessary, and yanked him alongside her as she led them down the stairs and into the hangar proper.

Halfway down they realized a pair of soldiers were making their way up, and Xander grabbed her and shifted their backs slightly toward the other pair, tucking themselves off to the side at the turn in the stairs.

“Quick! Pretend to make out with me,” He hurriedly suggested, and Buffy shoved his hands off of her before ducking her head toward her clipboard as if she were going over something with him.

“What?! What are you talking about?” She hissed.

“Well, I, uh,” He nervously glanced back at the guys and then lowered his head as well, as if he were answering whatever questions were on her clipboard, “You know, in the movies, the guy and the girl have to hide.” He reasoned apologetically, embarrassed.

“Please.” Buffy scoffed in a whisper. “Could you possibly draw _more_ attention to us?”

The other two commandos walked by without pause or comment, continuing on up to the elevator, and Buffy and Xander waited for another half-minute before hurrying down the rest of the steps.

“This is the Initiative, Xander. Military guys and scientists do _not_ make out with each other.” She huffed in an annoyed whisper.

“Well maybe that’s what’s wrong with the world. Ever think about that?” He returned.

She elbowed him warningly, and they both grew silent and terse as they made their way across the hangar, toward the hall where the labs were located. People seemed to be in a hurry, but moving in a way as if they didn't want to make it look that way - and none of them paid the undercover pair any attention. Their distraction definitely worked in the Scoobies’ favor.

Buffy tried to keep an ear out for anyone discussing Walsh’s condition, but the general commandos either didn’t know, or were pointedly not talking about it.

“How many of the men are still out?” A man’s voice greeted them just as they walked around a corner in the hall, and Buffy quickly grabbed Xander’s arm again and tugged him back around the corner with her to hide. She was pretty sure that voice was Dr. Angleman, the scientist who worked with Walsh; he’d recognize her regardless of her little costume. “The longer they go without their meds -”

“Everyone’s off their schedules because of the Professor’s attack.” Another man pointed out to him, sounding much more compassionate about it.

“That’s dangerous. I don’t want to think about the damage our guys could do under the stress of withdrawal. Especially since they won’t understand what’s happening to them.” Buffy and Xander shared a look. Well, that explained what was going on with Riley. “These guys don’t know they’ve been getting meds through their food, so we’d better get them in here, stat.”

“We’ve located all but a few. The last one’s were in pretty bad shape, but we stabilized them.” The other guy tried to reassure him.

“But Finn wasn’t one of them, right?”

“No.”

“Find him. He’s the one I care about. He’s too important to the work to lose now.”

“Indeed.”

“Keep me posted. I’ll be in records.”

‘Records’ just so happened to be the door just to their left, so after Angleman buzzed his way through the security pad with his key card, Buffy tucked her clipboard against the latch just before the door closed behind him, and paused for a beat to give him time to walk away before slipping inside after him.

Xander took her clipboard from her without question as she quickly followed the doctor, wasting no more time before grabbing onto him and spinning him around before pushing him roughly back against the counter. She should start questioning him immediately while he was disoriented, keep him from getting the upper hand or giving him time to think up lies.

“Now I don’t generally like to kill humans, but I’ve learned that it pays to be flexible in life.” Buffy grasped the front of his scrubs threateningly, twisting them in her fist tightly, making sure he knew that he couldn’t go anywhere.

Xander snorted suddenly, blurting out a high-pitched, uncomfortable giggle, but Buffy ignored him and his predictably dirty mind.

“I was wondering when you’d turn up.” Angleman commented as if he weren’t startled at all, and she had to give him one for his calm voice, but his heartbeat was hammering in his chest.

“Oh, darn.” Buffy quipped dryly, and tugged the glasses from her face with her other hand. Trying to see through them clearly was starting to give her a headache. “So this isn’t a surprise?” She held them back behind her without taking her eyes off of Angleman, and once again Xander was ready to take them from her, freeing her up to use both hands if it became necessary. “Now. You can tell me what you did to Riley, and after that we can take a tour of room three-fourteen.”

“Somebody’s coming, you know.” Angleman nodded his head toward the door behind them, nonplussed. “I’m sure they’ve already seen you on the security monitors.”

“Monitors are non-functional at this time, sir.” Riley’s voice announced, and Buffy darted her gaze over to see him coming from somewhere around the corner, perhaps another entrance.

Damn, she should have had Xander check for those as soon as they’d come in. At least it was Riley that had surprised them… well, maybe that was in their favor. Buffy wasn’t so sure yet.

“Went down about ten minutes ago.” He added, coming to a stop a few feet away.

“What?” Buffy turned her head toward Xander in confusion. “I didn’t do that.”

“Thank God for small favors, and we’ll worry about details later, huh, Buff?” Xander suggested pointedly.

“Finn, take this girl to the stockade immediately.” Angleman ordered.

“Riley, he can tell us what we need to know.” Buffy quickly pointed out, and then focused on the scientist again. “Walsh wanted me dead, didn’t she.” It wasn’t a question, she knew the truth.

“She did.” Angleman answered, and he sounded regretful about it. “But understand, the Initiative has no interest in eliminating The Slayer.” He said that to both her and Riley. “It was her own vendetta.”

“Why?” Buffy demanded. “Spell it out for me. I feel an attack of dumb blonde coming on.” She tightened her fist around the front of his clothes, lifting up slightly so that, although he was taller than her, she was now holding him up on his toes.

“I don’t know.” Angleman told her, finally nervous by the reminder of her strength, and she thumped him back against the counter again, likely bruising him.

“Well think harder.”

“It was…” He grimaced for a second, “the project.”

“Project? Three-fourteen.” She realized.

“It…” He glanced toward Riley before finishing to her, “it escaped.”

“That’s enough.” Riley ordered, stepping closer to them. “You’re making her sound like some psychopath. She isn’t like that. She’s a brilliant woman.”

“She is, it’s not -” Angleman tried to reassure him.

“All she was doing was trying to help people. And this is the way you want them to remember her? If she doesn’t make it?” He gestured vaguely toward the rest of the base, almost sounding like a petulant child, not wanting to accept the facts put in front of him.

“Angleman said Walsh was feeding you drugs,” Buffy told Riley, but that only seemed to make him angrier.

“ _You’re_ doing this to me, aren’t you?” He glared at her, advancing dangerously, and she let go of Angleman so she could face him and have both hands free in case she needed to ward him off. “This all started because of you.”

“Look, if you will just listen to me, okay? I am trying to help you get to the truth.” Whatever was happening inside of Riley was really twisting with his perception.

“You want truth? Then tell me. What did you do to her, Buffy?” He grabbed onto her arms roughly, and she shoved him off.

“Stop it. I didn’t do anything.” She informed him warningly.

He’d said earlier that the Initiative had tried to frame her for the attack, but she’d gotten the impression he hadn’t believed it for a second. Now, though… He reached for her again, and she pushed him back further.

“Riley, stop! This isn’t about us. Everything we need to know is here, we just need to find out what was in room three-fourteen.”

A body suddenly thudded bonelessly to the floor behind them, startling them all out of the argument as they spun to face the intrusion. There was a bridge of scaffolding that circled this room as well, and on it stood… a demon. Thing. Person?

“Me.” It announced.

Buffy’s eyes widened further the longer that she looked him over. His face was half man, half demon, part robot… and the rest of his body seemed to follow that aesthetic. His left arm was that of a Polgara demon, which explained a lot, and his right hand was from some kind of massive clawed beast. He wore camouflage pants like most of the other military guys around, but his chest was bare to reveal the horrifying Frankenstein job done to him, a nasty-looking stitch-up job right down the center of his chest almost as if he’d had an autopsy done on him.

“I’ve been thinking about the world. I wanted to see it, learn it.” The thing explained calmly and factually to them. “I saw the inside of that boy, and it was beautiful, but it didn’t tell me about the world.” He looked troubled, and Buffy was rendered speechless for one of the few rare times in her life.

He casually spoke of the brutal murder of a child as it it were… art. It was horrifying and nauseating. He then began to slowly pace along the scaffolding, speaking with the tonelessness of a computer,

“…It just made me _feel_. So now… I want to learn about me. Why I feel. What I am.” He jumped down into the room on their level, landing on his feet with hardly a grunt or a stumble, which Buffy also noted. He was as strong and as tough as he appeared to be. “So I came home.”

He took a floppy disk, of all things, out of his pocket, and slipped it into the slot Buffy realized was built into the bundle of mechanics on his chest over where a heart would normally be.

“I am a kinematically redundant, biomechanical demonoid designed by Maggie Walsh.” He commented, slowly pacing again, and Buffy realized he was somehow ‘reading’ it from the floppy he’d just… put inside him.

A part of her wished Giles was here, to understand the jargon and mentally file it away not to be forgotten - but a larger part of her, the protective part, was very glad that he wasn’t. She wished she hadn’t brought Xander here with her. She didn’t want him going up against this thing, either.

“She called me Adam,” The creature said with an odd smile on his demon mouth, “and I called her Mother.”

Buffy blinked and darted her gaze toward Xander, and then the both of them looked without turning their heads away from Adam, toward Riley. Suddenly the idea of the teacher’s assistant calling his professor/boss ‘mom’ was less amusing and more… blood-chilling.

“Adam.” Angleman got his attention, “Maggie would want you to stand down.”

“Yes.” Adam agreed. “But I seem to have a design flaw.” That statement made the scientist more nervous than he’d been held trapped within Buffy’s grasp, and she thinned her lips and shifted her weight on her feet slightly. “In addition to organic material, I’m equipped with GP2D-11 infrared detectors, a harmonic decelerator, plus d.c. servo.”

“She pieced you together from parts of other demons.” Buffy murmured in dismay.

“And man… and machine.” Adam looked down at his hands, slowly fisting them together. He was clearly troubled by his existence, and Buffy found no comfort in that.

When Faith was most troubled with her existence, she’d become… violent. She’d quickly been persuaded to ‘the good side’, thanks to Giles mostly, but Buffy knew she could have become much more of a threat to them had she decided to legitimately join up with the Mayor.

In all honesty, looking at Adam right now, Buffy suspected he was going to be much more of a threat than another Slayer.

“Which tells me _what_ I am,” Adam continued, “but not _who_ I am.” He looked back up toward them, and Buffy hesitantly glanced at Riley. Everyone seemed about as wrong-footed as she felt, so she hesitantly chose to continue to listen to Adam as he began to thoughtfully pace again. “Mother wrote things down, hard data, but also her feelings. That’s how I learned that I have a job here, and that she loved me.” He had that odd attempt of a smile on his face again.

“She isn’t your mother,” Riley snapped, fed up and still obviously angry, “and she doesn’t love you.”

“Is that _really_ the issue?” Xander questioned him incredulously without tearing his eyes away from the demonoid in front of them.

“She _made_ you because she is a _scientist_ ,” Riley insisted, ignoring Xander.

“Riley…” Xander warned between his teeth.

“Riley Finn.” Adam noted his name, and pulled another floppy from his pocket and inserted it into… his chest. God this was weird. Also, it’d been a while since computer class but Buffy was pretty sure normal floppy drives didn’t work that way.

“Stop!” Riley ordered. “Those files -”

“Oh. Mother created you, too.”

“Maggie is _not my mother_.” Riley growled, and Buffy glanced incredulously between them, trying to figure out what Adam had meant while also what Riley was going on about. “I have a mother,” He insisted, toward Buffy now, “a _real_ -”

“A birth mother, yes.” Adam agreed. “But after you met Maggie, she was the one who shaped your basic operating system. She taught you how to think, how to feel. She fed you chemicals to make you stronger - your mind and body. She said that you and I were her favorite children. Her art.” Adam was ‘smiling’ again. “That makes us brothers… family.”

“No.” Riley immediately denied. “I’m _not_ like you.”

“That’s pain, isn’t it.” Adam noted, and Buffy wasn’t sure whether it was of himself, or what he could hear in Riley’s tone of voice. “Why? Because your… feeding schedule, the chemicals, have been interrupted?” Ah, of Riley then. “Or do you miss her? Tell me.”

Buffy suddenly realized that Adam didn’t know that Walsh was still technically alive… in dire shape, but not dead yet.

“I’ll kill you.” Riley threatened emotionally.

“You won’t.” Adam returned calmly. “You haven’t been programmed to.”

“I can’t be _programmed_. I’m a _man_.” Riley argued.

“It’s here.” Adam held up yet another floppy disk. “The plan she had for us. What happens. How it ends.”

“No.”

“Do you want to hear?”

“No!” Riley lifted a pistol up suddenly, but just as quickly Adam grasped his wrist and twisted it out of his hand. Buffy shifted to step between them, to push Riley back, but Adam backhanded her and she dropped to the floor, more stunned in surprise that he’d so easily knocked her off her feet than in actual pain.

She twisted onto her back to see Riley punch him across the face in her defense, and then Adam punched him back, sending him flying entirely across the room. Xander rushed in then, but Adam grabbed onto him and threw him back against the wall.

Seeing an opportunity, she hopped to her feet and threw some kicks at him, which did absolutely nothing. He punched her, waiting for her to recover, and when her own jab landed fruitlessly against him he slammed the back of his palm down onto her shoulder, right into a pressure point and dropping her to the floor once again.

She could hear Angleman’s feet scurrying for the door, and then Adam called for him, and then he cried out in pain and there was another thump of a body hitting the linoleum. She grimaced her eyes open in time to see Riley struggling with Adam again, and then get skewered by the same Polgara spear he’d just killed Angleman with.

She scrambled to her feet and bum-rushed the demonoid again, but her hits did absolutely nothing to him, and after getting tossed around the room a couple of more times, she was finding it harder to get back up as quickly.

“Thank you. This has been… very interesting.” Adam commented, calm and without a single loss of breath. They could hear the commandos at the door trying to break in, and that didn’t phase him at all as he strolled back up the ladder onto the scaffolding and up through a vent in the ceiling.

Buffy slid over toward where Riley was hunched against the all, adding her hand on top of his, pressing against his bleeding wound.

The commandos finally shot their way through the lock and into the room, scurrying in like ants as they secured the area.

“We had a demon in here,” Xander told them, pointing upward with one hand as he pressed the other against his bruised ribs. “It escaped through that vent.”

“It’s not the Polgara,” Buffy told them, recognizing some of Riley’s friends. “It looks sort of… half-man.”

“Right. And you just happened to be in the neighborhood.” Forrest snarled, and Buffy frowned up at him. Alright, maybe them being Riley’s friends wouldn’t actually be of any help to her, after all.

“She’s telling the truth,” Riley insisted through a grimace of pain. “I saw it. It killed Angleman. Go. Now!”

Most of the group listened to his order, hurrying up the stairs to the scaffolding, except for Forrest and Graham and a couple of others she didn’t recognize.

“He needs to go to a hospital.” Buffy informed them tersely.  
  


“I’ll take it from here.” Forrest clearly didn’t like her at all, suddenly, and Buffy wondered just what it was the scientists had lied to them about the attack on Walsh. Speaking of… she wanted to know how the professor was doing. If she survived, would she continue to come after Buffy?

“I’m going with him.” She also didn’t trust that they wouldn’t do something further dangerous to Riley’s health, if the information that Adam had read out to them had been true.

“It’s a military hospital.” Forrest informed her, which only furthered her concerns.

“No,”

“Back off!” Forrest knelt down on the other side of Riley, staring her down. “We take care of our own around here, understand?” Gone was the tentative mutual friendship of the classmate that had been a help in her psych class study group. There was nothing but distrust in the young man’s eyes, and thinly-veiled disgust.

Two of the four others in his remaining squad leveled their guns at her, and Xander hesitantly stepped around them to draw closer to her.

“Buffy.” He held his hand out to her, and she glanced between the soldiers for a moment, weighing her odds, before eventually giving in. She slid her bloodstained hand away from Riley’s stomach and put her other into Xander’s waiting palm, accepting his hand up.

Graham quickly took her place as Forrest took over putting pressure on the wound, and they both wrapped Riley’s arms around their shoulders and hoisted him halfway to his feet.

“Escort them out.” Forrest muttered to one of the commandos Buffy didn’t recognize, and Graham briefly gave her an apologetic look as they shuffled Riley out of the room.

Buffy and Xander shared a serious, and overwhelmed, look.

**... ... ...**

Buffy and Xander didn’t bother pretending to be upbeat or positive as they shuffled through the door into the basement. Willow had already returned, so she and Giles were both there to leap to their feet and give them concerned looks.

“Just some bruised ribs,” Xander announced first, understanding Willow’s expression.

“I’ll get some ice,” She offered, heading up the stairs as Xander glanced around the room.

“Where’s Anya?”

“Here,” She appeared from the other side of the curtain, immediately stepping close to him and skirting her hands over his chest and arms. “You’re not dead? Oh, good.” Then she looked at Buffy, “Thank you for not getting him killed.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Buffy replied hesitantly, sharing a thankful look with him for joining her. He gave her a small nod, and looped his arm across Anya’s shoulders as he moved toward the bed so he could sit down with her.

When Willow reappeared with a couple bags of frozen peas and a first-aid kit, Buffy and Xander gave them all a run-down of what had happened at the Initiative.

“Thanks for not… being fussy about earlier.” Buffy added shyly once they were finished, and at Giles’ questioning look, she added, “With Riley? I know it probably could’ve looked…”

“It looked like you were comforting your friend.” He said softly. “He was seriously ill, Buffy, and you were concerned for him.”

“And now he’s injured, _and_ going through withdrawal - or getting pumped up with fresh drugs that are doing _who knows what_ to his body. He and Walsh are holed up in a secret military hospital, everyone else at the Initiative hates me, and there’s a super-demon-guy-robot on the loose…” Buffy sighed tiredly, and Giles drew her close and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin atop her head once she turned her cheek against his chest. “Riley’s just a pawn in it all, and he’s my friend, I can’t just leave him there and let them run their experiments or whatever on him.”

“I understand, Buffy.” Giles replied gently, and she tried to relax and not sound so defensive.

“So you mean, it’s Tuesday.” Xander quipped gently, and Buffy half-chuckled tiredly, relaxing within Giles’ embrace.

“I just need to come up with a better plan than just storming in there and getting us all shot.” Buffy sighed.

“Yeah, you might wanna work out the kinks in that one.” Willow teased lightly.

“From what we’ve seen, I doubt they’ll be trying to hurt Riley. You can’t spend all your energy going after the Initiative,” Giles pointed out carefully, “Not while Adam is out on the loose.”

“He’s really that big of a threat?” Willow asked, her eyes widening at Giles’ darkly serious tone.

“I could barely fight him.” Buffy reminded her, finally shifting back out of Giles’ embrace. “It was like Walsh designed him to be the ultimate warrior. He’s smart, and fast. He gave the commando guys the slip with no problem.”

“There’s got to be a flaw.” Willow mused hopefully, her eyes following how Giles’ hand slid over Buffy’s, a gesture of comfort that the Slayer automatically accepted with a twist of her wrist, carding their fingers together even as her gaze was now staring distantly across the room.

Even with the serious conversation, it made her smile warmly just a little bit. Although the Scoobies knew about their relationship, Giles still wasn’t often overly-affectionate in front of them. The little things were really heartwarming to observe… and made her heart ache for Oz.

“I think the part where he’s pure evil and kills randomly was an oversight.” Buffy commented wryly, drawing Willow back to the present topic.

Xander made a thoughtful noise, and Buffy focused her eyes toward him.

“Actually… well, Adam would know what they’ve been feeding Riley. Right?” The others focused on him as well, and he gestured vaguely. “All the info he had - he said something about having Walsh’s plans for them. ‘How it’s supposed to end’. So…”

“From what you’ve described, I believe kidnapping Adam and questioning him for information would be even far more difficult than just killing him.” Giles pointed out.

“Angleman and that other doctor were talking about other soldiers as well…” Buffy recalled, and Xander nodded in agreement. “It’s probably more than just Riley we need to worry about going… rogue.” Buffy slipped her hand out of Giles’ as she began to pace thoughtfully.

“You need to be especially careful now, Buffy.” Giles warned. “Particularly if they still suspect you in Professor Walsh’s attack.”

“I don’t think there was ever any official suspicion in the ranks?” Xander figured. “Some of the guys that escorted us out of there really seemed uncomfortable by that one guy’s hostility toward you,”

“Forrest. He’s one of Riley’s closest friends, I think… and in my psych class, too.” Buffy explained, a bit disappointedly. She knew she was never going to be extremely close with any of the commando guys, but she’d been excited to have some new friends on campus.

“Do you think they’ll be coming back to class?” Willow asked dubiously, and Buffy shrugged.

“I won’t be surprised if they don’t. They kind of have bigger things going on…” She hesitantly glanced toward Giles, but he immediately shook his head and thinned his lips.

“No. You are not skipping classes, Buffy.”

“I _need_ to find Adam, Giles.” She insisted seriously. “I can have mom call administration, give them some line about a death in the family or something. That’ll give me a few days.” When Giles opened up his mouth to further argue, she shook her head. “You didn’t see what- _what was left_ of that little boy, Giles.” She said firmly, growing emotional just thinking about it. “I cannot sit in literature class talking about _Jane Eyre_ while Adam could be doing that to some other poor kid! That’s not happening again. Not on my watch.”

Giles was silent for a moment, but then gave her a small nod. He still didn’t look entirely happy about it, but he understood the lives at stake were far more important than whether or not she might get booted out of a few classes.

“We will do what searching we can during the day, keep up with the news and such on any sightings of Adam.” Giles eventually decided. “I’m not comfortable with you patrolling alone right now, either, so we should double-up - at least - and,” He brightened suddenly, an idea coming to him. “I’ll call Wesley and Faith,”

“Is that necessary?” Buffy whined a little bit. She hated feeling like she _needed_ the other Slayer’s help. After all, when was the last time Faith had asked for her help in L.A.? Giles raised his eyebrow at her.

“You said so yourself that you could barely fight him.” He pointed out.

“Fine.” She begrudgingly agreed. “Just… give me a couple of days first, okay? She’s got her hands full in L.A., anyway.” Giles looked seriously unsure, but he nodded slowly. The gang was all silent for a moment, and Buffy furrowed her brow as she looked around the basement. At some point, they’d gone down a member and she hadn’t noticed. That just went to show how worried she was about the whole Adam issue. “Where’d Anya go?”

“Ah-” Giles answered that one, “She decided earlier this evening that since she is the least likely to be known as a threat to the Initiative, she would be safe sleeping in her own room at night, giving us a bit more room to ourselves here. She’ll be back tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“She only stayed this late anyway because she was worried about Xander.” Willow added, giving her old friend a little smirk, teasing him. He flushed, but looked pleased as well.

“Okay.” Buffy nodded and looked around the room, considering. “You guys get some rest. Xander? Maybe tomorrow you can take a look at that blaster gun?”

“Sure, Buff.” Xander nodded, stretching tiredly as he shrugged off his vest and lifted his ankle up onto the opposite knee to unlace his boots. “I’ll take the, uh, beach ball tonight for ya, Giles.” He offered.

“And what will you be doing?” Giles frowned, still focused on Buffy as she began to take her hair down from the bun, unweaving her braid to put it back up in a simple pony.

“My job.” She said calmly. “It’s night, I patrol.”

“Not tonight, Buffy, you are in no condition to take on Adam again so soon,” He argued, and she gave him a look as she reached for her black long-sleeve shirt to replace the sweater with.

“Oh, you think the vampires are going to take the night off, too?” She snarked, and his frown deepened as he put his hand over hers and grabbed onto the shirt as well, halting her from going to the other side of the curtain to change.

“Don’t use that excuse - you haven’t been patrolling nightly for months. You aren’t going out to hunt down vampires, Buffy, you’re going after Adam. And I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?” She raised her eyebrow dangerously. “Do you remember the last time you tried to _forbid_ me from doing something?”

She noticed from the corner of her eye as Xander slowly got to his feet again, boots loose but still on, and he and Willow quietly slipped out the side door.

“We can begin our search tomorrow, Buffy,” Giles softened his tone slightly, but didn’t let go of her. “This Initiative are likely still out there hunting him and he’ll have gone to ground until things quiet a little.”

Buffy knew that he was right, but she hated giving in to the argument so quickly.

“There’s no way that I can sleep knowing that he’s out there.” She insisted.

“Then don’t sleep. But _rest_ , please.” He softened his hold on her shirt, and cradled her hand instead of gripped it. “Get changed into something more comfortable, and lie down. You need to let your body heal, Buffy.”

She glanced at the door for a moment, and sighed. She _was_ exhausted, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. Adam had been seriously tough, and taken a lot of energy out of her even if he hadn’t ended up injuring her _too_ badly.

“They still think our arguments are gonna be twenty-minute long sparring matches,” Buffy grinned a tiny bit, speaking wryly, and pinched her fingers against his sweater as she dropped her shirt back on top of her duffel bag. “They won’t be back for a few.” She peeled off her own sweater right there, and Giles swallowed loudly.

“I- I don’t think that would be very conducive toward _rest_ , Buffy,” He chided haltingly, and she widened her grin as she tugged up the end of his sweater. He hesitantly peeled it off, anyway, staring at her as she kicked off her shoes and then shimmied out of her pants.

“You told me to put something more comfortable on.” She reasoned innocently, taking his sweater from him and pulling it over her head. She undid her bra from beneath the bunched fabric and pushed it from her arms without actually revealing anything, and then finished pulling his sweater on. It fell down to her thighs, and she pushed the overly-long sleeves to her elbows, quirking her eyebrow at him as he stood there awkwardly in his t-shirt and jeans.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there watching her with a warmth on his face and in his eyes, and she stepped over to the side of the bed without looking away from him.

“You put something more comfortable on, too,” She told him, “And join me. At least until they come back.”

“I don’t think,” He watched as she climbed under the blankets, and then folded the other side down for him.

“Just a little cuddle?” She pouted at him, and he groaned as he began to unlatch the front of his pants.

“I swear to God, Buffy, you won’t be lulling me to sleep and then sneaking out when I’m unaware,” He warned her as he quickly shucked off his jeans and traded them for his sweatpants. She wriggled happily against the pillows as he joined her at the other side of the bed and slipped in.

“Promise.” She told him, though she had briefly considered it. But as soon as she turned and he spooned up behind her, tucking his arms around her waist, she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere for the rest of the night. “And no frisky business, mister,” She warned him, and he giggled quietly.

“Speak for yourself.” He returned teasingly.

She draped her arm atop his over her waist, and mirrored her hand over his larger one, stroking his fingers a little, and they lay there in silence for a few moments, until their breathing was almost synchronized.

“As long as you’re with me, whatever comes, I can handle.” Buffy whispered assuredly, and Giles tightened his arms around her, drawing her closer against his body.

She cradled his hands against her chest and closed her eyes as she felt him press a kiss against her hair.

**... ... ...**

Buffy was maybe a quarter conscious when Xander and Willow hesitantly came back into the basement. She had heard their cautious whispers at the other side of the door, wondering at the silence inside and if it was safe to enter, but they relaxed once they realized that the Watcher and Slayer had fallen (mostly, on Buffy’s part) asleep.

“Aw… I don’t want to wake them.” Willow whispered.

“Guess they made up.” Xander’s tone sounded fond, too, until a second later he hissed, “Oh God, did they _make up_ on _my_ bed?!”

“Shush, Xander, you know they wouldn’t do that,” Willow chided him, partially amused. “Anyway, we weren’t gone that long.”

“Right, right…” Xander relaxed.

“Guess I’ll take the recliner tonight,” Willow decided fairly easily. “And leave you with the squeaky blow-up chair.”

“Gee, thanks.” Xander grunted. “Wait a minute, isn’t that Giles’ sweater?!”

“It’s like double the Giles’ cuddles all at once,” Willow was obviously smiling.

Buffy hoped they’d quiet down and go to bed soon; they were starting to pull her further into consciousness and she knew that if she totally woke up, she really _wouldn’t_ be sleeping anymore tonight. Regardless whether or not she went on patrol.

“I’m… going to bed.” Xander commented. “Wait, here, let me get you another blanket. They stole all the ones on the couch,”

“Thanks, Xan…” There was some movement back and forth, and then Willow asked him, “You sure you’re okay? No open wounds or any bleeding that needs looking at?”

“Just some bruises, no worries.” Xander promised. “Get some sleep, Will. We’ve gotta be on top form so we can help Buffy.”

“Night.” Willow whispered, and he returned it before his footsteps shuffled off behind the curtain. There was some further movement as Willow settled for bed, and then the lights switched off and all was quiet.

Buffy realized she actually felt even more relaxed now that all three of them were nearby and accounted for, and she snuggled a bit more firmly against Giles’ chest, where they’d separated just slightly as his arms had relaxed their hold in sleep.

He slowly nuzzled her hair, and tucked a knee a bit between hers before settling again, and she knew he was still asleep. Thankfully, her brain soon followed along, and she slept dreamlessly.


	27. Chapter 26 (This Year's Girl)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been quite delayed, I know, and I apologize for that. I was beginning to get very stressed about providing timely updates for you guys, to the point that it was warring with my muse and I just couldn’t get the words down no matter how much I wanted to. So, I took a step back for a bit of a breather and to clear my head. Writing this chapter also meant finishing up watching the entirety of Season 04 ( :/ ) and, dealing with the series finale of SHIELD again recently as well… yeah, the past few weeks have been a mess in regards to the fandom part of my life, not even mentioning everything else going on in 2020.
> 
> Anyway, at long last, here is your next update. <3 Big kudos to you all, new followers and old! And a heartfelt shoutout to Muldersgurl for talking with me through the rest of the season and helping me give my writer’s block a swift kick in the ass.

* * *

Buffy awoke fairly quickly, admittedly well-rested but extremely uncomfortable.

Well, being in Giles’ arms was always comfortable, but right now it was like being wrapped up in a thick blanket right next to a furnace.

“Giles,” Buffy whined under her breath when her attempts to wriggle away from him didn’t work. She twisted within his grasp to face him, and lightly pushed her palms against his chest. “Let me go. _Hot_.” She complained, still whispering so she wouldn’t wake Willow over on the recliner.

She could actually feel herself perspiring a bit - gross. She needed a shower anyway; she hadn’t taken one the night before after her scuffle at the Initiative.

She considered for a moment, and then grinned a little as she shifted her head closer to his until their noses touched and she could whisper even quieter against his lips,

“No one else is awake yet. I bet if we’re quick, we can sneak up to the shower together.”

“I am not having sex in Xander’s parents’ house.” Giles grumbled without opening his eyes.

She _knew_ she’d woken him up!

“He had sex in your shop,” She reasoned, slowly nuzzling the tip of her nose against his.

“Mmph.” He grumbled again. “Thank you for that reminder. I’ll need to sanitize every surface when I return.”

He didn’t say anything else, or even open his eyes yet, and Buffy huffed and relaxed her head back onto her own pillow. She pushed at him again, a little harder than before.

“Let me _go_ ,” She whined again, a little amused by his sleepy clinginess even though she was still desperate for a shower. He sighed and loosened his arms, and she pressed a quick thankful peck against his cheek before slithering out of the bed. “ _I’m_ going upstairs, anyway,” She announced in a haughty whisper, “And if you don’t join me, then I’ll take care of it myself.”

He opened his eyes immediately and looked up at her.

“Take care of what ‘it’?”

Buffy raised her eyebrows innocently at him, and then turned to dig a set of clean clothes out of her duffel bag - making sure to stretch enough that the bottom of his sweater pulled up over her bent waist and gave him a good peek at her underwear.

She looked at him over her shoulder again once she straightened, and he was staring up at her with an intent - and knowing - look. She sent him a tiny smirk before grabbing her toiletries bag and then silently tip-toed around Willow’s recliner and up the stairs.

By the time she reached Xander’s bathroom, Giles was walking quietly behind her with his own change of clothes in hand, and they both giggled a little as they locked themselves inside. He set his clothes down on the edge of the sink and immediately snuck his hands up under the sweater, caressing her thighs and hips with warm palms.

“Giles,” She squirmed away from him and set her clothes down as well before stepping closer to the toilet. “I have to pee,” He just stood there, waiting, and then tilted his head when she didn’t do anything else. “Turn around!”

“I’ve seen you naked.” He pointed out in confusion, and she huffed and pointed at the door.

“The toilet is _different_. Turn around!” She huffed, and he looked amused but he did as requested, turning to face the door.

After a beat, he bent over as he shucked off his pants, stepping out of them and then peeling his shirt up over his head without turning from the door.

“What are you doing?” She wondered as she reached for the toilet paper.

“Saving time.” He shrugged. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, but then paused for a moment, before changing his mind and relaxing his hands by his sides.

She was mildly disappointed that he didn’t finish undressing, but quickly finished up and flushed, which he took as a sign that it was alright to face her again. As she went for the sink, he shifted closer to her and dipped his head as if to kiss her.

“Teeth!” She insisted, pulling her head back from his reach as she darted around him and first washed her hands. He sighed heavily, and dragged his feet toward the toilet, lifting the seat up, clearly pouting.

“What are you doing?!” She asked again, glancing over out of the corner of her eye as he fiddled with the front of his boxers.

“Peeing.” He replied calmly.

“ _Now_?” She blurted, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

“We _are_ in a bathroom.” He pointed out, looking at her like she was being weird. She hesitantly glanced away as he pulled his length out into the open. “You’ve seen me naked.”

“But it’s different.” She frowned, unsure.

“It’s a normal bodily function. Everybody pees, one way or another.” He yawned as he began to do just that, and Buffy studiously focused on brushing her teeth. After a moment however, she found herself relaxing, and realized maybe it wasn’t so weird after all.

Actually, a part of her felt sort of… touched, that he felt so comfortable with her, so familiar.

Still, she refused any smoochies before properly brushing her teeth.

She was finished by the time he moved to the sink to wash his hands, so she stepped back to give him room to take her place but then stepped close again, wrapping her arms around his waist. She kissed his back, which was still warm, and nuzzled the dip of his spine. He hummed softly and shivered a little, but continued washing his hands as if he hadn’t reacted, and she smiled as she slowly pressed kisses across the back of his shoulder… against his scar from the arrow… over to the other shoulder…. She could see the hints of muscle around his shoulder blade as he moved, and she slid her tongue along the line.

“Buffy?” He questioned her, curious amusement in his voice as he turned the faucet off and dried his hands on the towel hanging beside the sink.

“Dunno.” She shrugged against him as she rose up on her toes to kiss his nape. “Just felt like licking you.”

“ _Dear lord_ ,” He turned against her suddenly and crushed her close, kissing her deeply and taking her breath away before she could say anything else. She felt the hard tent in his boxers, then, and tried to wriggle out of his embrace enough to tug his sweater off of her.

Suddenly they were both desperate to be naked, to be _one_. He moved his hands to help her out of it, but did not stop kissing her until it was absolutely necessary and then _continued on_ kissing her as soon as the fabric was out of the way.

Buffy moaned, and he somehow managed to shush her whilst still kissing her, guiding her with his body backwards toward the tub. He blindly fumbled with the shower nozzle before he remembered they were in a somewhat unfamiliar bathroom, and he pried his lips from hers with an annoyed huff.

As he figured out how to turn the water on and set the temperature, Buffy grabbed her toiletry bag from the edge of the sink and fished out the small bottles of shampoo and conditioner as she kicked off her underwear. She grinned at him as she stepped into the shower at the other end of the tub, and he had a foot in after her before she laughed and tucked a finger into his waistband to snap it against his hips.

“Forgetting something?”

“Oh, hell,” He grumbled, stepping back out and hastily pushing his boxers to the floor. She laughed and waited for him to join her before grabbing onto him and stepping under the spray with him.

He brushed his hands against her cheeks, pushing her hair back away from her face as it soaked with water, and then dipped his own head into the spray as he kissed her more softly this time. He traced his tongue along the outline of her lips as he turned them round so he could take the brunt of the water, and she couldn’t resist sliding her hands around his hips and resting her palms over his butt.

Their briefly frantic motions had now calmed into something more hungry and tender; he danced his fingers against the small of her back with one hand while the other rested lightly against the side of her neck.

“Mmm, I want you,” Her murmur was husky as he shifted his attentions toward the opposite side of her neck, and her ear. He nibbled on the lobe a little, and she dug her nails into his skin as she arched against him.

He seemed to melt against her and he half-turned to press her back against the shower wall, his weight pressing her in, his arousal trapped up hard and hot between them. She squirmed a little, wanting to feel him sliding against her, and he tilted his head back for a moment as he inhaled sharply, gently rocking his hips for a bit of counter-pressure.

It was incredibly arousing for her, but not relieving, and she shifted her hands higher up his back, squeezing his shoulders a little.

“Lift me up,” She requested, needy, but just as he lowered his hands to her thighs to do just that, he hesitated and groaned.

“I forgot a bloody condom.” He dropped his head to her shoulder and made a little frustrated whiny sound, and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

“Well, it’s not the end of the world,” She teased, lazily caressing the side of his hip. “Check the cabinet - this is _Xander’s_ bathroom, after all.”

“Don’t wanna move.” He pouted, nuzzling the curve of her neck, using his slightly slouched position to rub his length between her legs.

The burst of arousal that coursed through her had her spine arching and her head thrown back against the wall before she could help it, gasping in surprise.

“Mm, I could come just like this,” He admitted in a moan, tilting his head back again as he slid his cock against her wetness, and she latched her mouth onto his collarbone to quiet her own moan as the head of his cock rubbed along her folds and then against her clit, the weight of his balls pressing against her underneath when he pushed his hips fully against hers.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” She panted, “Just like that, so could I,” She tucked her arms between them to rest her hands against his chest, putting a little space between them so she could see what they were doing.

Watching him, flushed and wet from both arousal and water, stroking against her, was hot as hell.

“God, Buffy,” He lowly growled her name before crushing his lips to hers again, giving her a scorching kiss even as the pace he set with his hips was long and slow. He swirled his tongue in her mouth as if imitating what he would have done with his cock, and she could feel her toes and thighs begin to clench already in preparation for orgasm.

She really had no idea whether he was just that good, or she was that easy for him, but she didn’t care at all. For this momentary time together there were no demons or suspicious secret military groups or vampires or slayers - there was just Giles, somehow making her feel indescribably beloved even as they quietly fucked against the shower wall.

He seemed to be just as breathless and in thrall as she was, anyway, and she decided that even if this did make her ‘easy’, then there was nothing wrong with that at all. She sucked on his tongue for a moment and he shoved one of his hands into her wet hair as he lost his rhythm and rocked his hips hard against hers, prying his mouth away to quietly grunt her name into her ear.

That sent a crackling thread of pleasure all the way down to her toes, and she darted her hand down to press her fingers against the tip of his cock and focus a bit more direct pressure onto her clit, not letting him slide fully against her anymore. He began to shorten his strokes then and she keened approvingly.

“Are you close?” He was panting slightly, likely trying to hold himself back until she came. “…Come for me, Slayer-mine,” He encouraged in that rumbly voice that he knew made her squirm even on a bad day, and she whimpered and gripped her other hand tightly around his bicep as everything sort of went white for a moment.

She didn’t lose her focus for very long, but he was peppering heavy kisses against her gasping mouth when she came to, interspersing them with words of pleasure and praise as he continued to thrust his hips urgently now, drawing out her orgasm as well as chasing his own.

This was when time slowed, for her; while she was basking in the waves of her own pleasure, and watching him seek out his. She trailed her fingers up and down the small of his back, using her nails just hard enough that experience had told her would give him the tinglies.

She was certain that one day she’d love to see him touch himself, to get himself off without her intervention. She wondered if he would be interested in that idea. As it was… this was pretty amazing, too.

Water dripped down his nose and chin as he lowered his head to watch himself, and his brow furrowed just before his breath caught and his hips jerked suddenly. Come spurted out against her belly and then he groaned out a long breath as his cock throbbed and he came again, darting a hand down to grip his length and firmly stroke himself through it.

“ _Yes_ \- ” He gasped shakily as he squeezed his cock between his fingers and pulled his foreskin back, sliding the head through the come on her skin.

“ _Giles_ ,” Buffy whispered half with despair, half with hunger as she felt her mouth go dry and her nipples go taut almost painfully. Her mind was still muddled with desire as she reached up to cover them with her warm fingers, gently massaging them until she felt some of the tension leave her. Watching him so confident and knowing about his own pleasure was _definitely_ amazing.

“Mmm,” He sighed heavily with pleasure and relaxed his weight against her as he kissed her warmly, and she lifted her arms around his neck to soothe her fingers through his wet hair.

“That was…” She hesitated to find the right descriptor, and grinned against his lips. “Very nice,” She eventually went with, swooning a little against him as she pecked another loving kiss against his mouth. He hummed and smiled into her kiss in agreement, kissing her back. “We should actually shower now before the water goes cold,” She suggested, and he nodded as he shifted away to allow her room to move.

He guided her under the spray first, so she could rinse off their mess before she scrubbed up, and his hands only lingered on her hips for a few moments before he followed her lead and reached for the soap.

**... ... ...**

Once she was sure they were completely dressed and had gathered all their toiletry items from the sink, Buffy opened the door to find Willow leaning against the wall opposite, her arms folded loosely across her chest and a sleepy look on her face.

“ _Finally_ ,” She huffed as they both shyly stepped to the side out of the way, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes.”

“We just- um,” Buffy glanced quickly toward Giles before looking back at Willow, “He came in to shave while I was in the- ”

“Don’t,” Willow snorted as she held her hand up in the air to stop Buffy. “If you give me an excuse then I’m just gonna think something worse than what I’m already thinking and let’s just leave it at: I won’t tell Xander if you won’t. Kay?”

“Deal.” Buffy said gratefully, and Willow sent Giles a smirk as she stepped into the bathroom.

“No cranky bear this morning, huh?” She teased, and he pouted slightly in indignation. She laughed quietly and closed the door between them, and Buffy and Giles stood in the hall for a moment.

“Let’s go get some doughnuts and coffee.” Buffy decided eventually.

“You believe we need to bribe Willow to keep mum?” Giles asked as he followed her back to the basement.

“No, but… a little extra supplication wouldn’t hurt. Plus, we can grab a newspaper while we’re out, see if there’s any demon news we might’ve missed yesterday.” She reasoned.

“I’d like to give you a little extra supplication,” Giles leaned over to rumble into her ear, and she pretended to jerk away from him, in effort to hide her little quiver of excitement, and laughed as she descended the stairs.

“Giles!”

She caught his slow, sly grin; he’d noticed her reaction anyway.

“Do I wanna know?” A sleepy Xander greeted them from the middle of the basement, and Buffy shook her head as she put her toiletry bag away and their dirties into the hamper set aside for such things.

“We’re gonna grab some sustenance and check on a few things while we’re out.” Buffy told him. “Once your eyes are a little more open, wanna start taking a look at that gun for me?”

“Sure.” Xander yawned and nodded as he scratched his hand through his hair. Then, he squinted suspiciously at the both of them. “Why do both of you have wet hair?”

Giles pointedly ignored him as he turned his back to find his car keys, and Buffy smirked a little before she managed to duck her head as she tugged her shoes on.

Xander groaned in dismay, then, and shuffled back to the other side of the curtain.

“I don’t wanna know, I don’t wanna know, I don’t wanna know…”

Giles shared a secretively amused look with Buffy as he led the way to the door and held it open for her.

**... ... ...**

“How are your ribs?” Buffy asked as she slowly stretched on the floor in front of the couch. They’d folded the pull-out back up to give themselves a bit more room to work for the day. Xander, who was busy hesitantly poking the Initiative weapon and staring at it warily, grimaced a little as he tried to stretch to the side a bit.

“Pretty sore.” He admitted.

“You should join Buffy,” Giles suggested from his position on the corner of the couch, newspaper in hand. “Some gentle stretching will get the blood flowing and help facilitate healing.”

“I’m no Slayer,” Xander reminded him, and he rolled his eyes.

“Natural healing, Xander. Leave the gun for a moment, I’ll show you.” Giles folded the paper and stood, removing his glasses to set them atop the paper as he gestured to the space beside Buffy. She moved over a little to offer Xander a bit more room, and that was how the three of them ended up doing a bit of Tai Chi for an hour.

Willow had insisted upon going to campus for the day, not only because she was reluctant to miss any more classes, but she’d also pointed out that it would be good to have someone there to keep an eye on Initiative activity. Plus, Buffy could take a look at her notes later and at least keep up with what was going on in class.

Anya was at the shop, claiming it was a good cover to keep the place open so people didn’t become suspicious, to which Giles pointed out that the Initiative as a whole were unlikely to be watching him or his place of business that closely. However, both he and the ex-vengeance demon were happy to have a continued source of income, so Giles entrusted her with the keys to manage for a full day on her own. (Buffy didn’t think that they were ever busy enough for that to matter, anyway… but then again, considering that, she supposed every little bit helped.)

Buffy actually enjoyed having this time with the guys. It wasn’t often she hung out with Xander alone anymore, and although Giles was here as well, his presence wasn’t intrusive to that. Not that Anya’s presence was intrusive, necessarily; they were all just getting more used to her part within the group. Xander-with-his-girlfriend was a bit different than Xander-with-his-friends, and while that wasn’t a bad thing, it was just… refreshing to have _this_ Xander around again for a little while. Plus, Giles tended to temper Xander’s more crude jokes, and - in Buffy’s silent and well-hidden opinion - provided a much better adult male role model for Xander than his father ever did.

Buffy could see, in moments like this, just how much he’d grown over the last year. She only hoped that he’d continue in that direction and maybe even perhaps gain a little more of that self-confidence she knew he had in him.

Xander was pretty awkward with the Tai Chi, at first, but after Giles showed him how to center himself, his balance started to improve. By the end of it, he even wore a mildly surprised and pleased smile.

This non-mission, non-violent bonding time was nice. She and Willow had their time between classes and in their dorm room, but it’d been harder to really keep up with Xander with him as a working man in the real world now. In some ways he was adulting even more than they were. She knew, especially from what had happened during Halloween, that he was feeling a bit left out from the college crowd - but Buffy hoped that he understood now that he wasn’t moving _backwards_ or being _left behind_. College wasn’t for everybody, and craftsmen were just as necessary in this world as the booksmart people like Willow.

Now where that left Buffy, herself, she didn’t quite know yet. She just knew that college was something she’d wanted to experience before she died.

“I always thought Tai Chi was for old people in parks - or, you know, gratuitous,” Xander gestured vaguely in Giles’ direction, who frowned in indignation, “but that was actually kind of nice.”

“ _Gratuitous_?” Giles huffed.

Okay, he was still very _Xander_ and needed to turn everything into a dirty joke, but at least it hadn’t been a completely tasteless one. ‘Adulting’ only really went so far when one wasn’t even twenty yet, and still somewhere around sixteen in his mind.

“And you feel better too, don’tcha?” Buffy grinned, completely hiding the fact she’d been so introspective during their stretching, and Xander chuckled as he moved back toward his work bench.

“Well I don’t get all the extra fuzzy Watcher-y feelings from it, but yeah,” He teased, and then shifted his shoulders, “I’m not nearly as tight as I was. Thanks.”

“Watchery-y feelings?” Buffy frowned a little too. “What do you know about those?”

“Buffy,” Giles choked a little, his cheeks tinting red, but Xander was too busy fiddling in his toolbox to take advantage of the possibility for innuendo.

“You know, the Watcher-Slayer vibes and stuff. I heard you talking about it with Willow once.”

“Oh.” Buffy commented, and then looked at Giles, who relaxed significantly and then adopted that little upturn of his lips that she liked to call ‘The Proud Watcher’. He used to make that face often, in the library, when he was trying to hide any excess of emotion from the gang.

Or, you know, what amounted to a normal level of human emotion.

“I’m gonna do a little recon,” Buffy announced, reaching for her socks and shoes, feeling energized after a good night’s sleep and, yeah, a little training with her Watcher. Said Watcher, however, did not look as excited about the idea.

“Buffy, I haven’t even finished with the newspaper yet. I highly doubt,”

“I’ll stay away from the campus,” Buffy promised him, knowing he was mostly worried about how the Initiative might act upon seeing her. “I’d be surprised if Adam was anywhere near there, anyway. He’s smarter than that.”

“Exactly.” Giles noted. “He likely won’t come out of hiding at all, today.”

“Well, then I’ll find some other demon to slay on,” She shrugged, and teased, “One girl in all the world, remember Giles?”

“And Faith.” He pointed out, and she huffed.

“Faith isn’t in Sunnydale - yet. And I’ve got too much energy to sit here and read.” She tucked a small dagger into the side of her boot, and then two holstered knives in the back waistband of her jeans. “Like you said, Adam will probably be in hiding all day. I’ll be okay on my own for a few hours. You guys stay here, see if you can figure out that lingo he was referring to when he was telling us what he was made of,” She specified that part toward Xander, who nodded. “I’ll avoid any and all green berets,” She promised toward Giles, sliding forward and rising up to brush her lips against his cheek.

“I’ll just uh, figure out how to take apart this gun, too… hopefully without cooking myself.” Xander said warily. Buffy gave him an appreciative nod as she walked toward the back door.

“Ah!” Xander yelped just as she opened the door, and she paused to look back toward him in concern. He was stepping away from the workbench with a frazzled look on his face. He swallowed and nodded again, waving her away, and she glanced toward Giles once more before heading out. He sent her a nod, too - he’ll keep an eye on the younger man and make sure he won’t accidentally start a fire or something.

Buffy knew Willy wouldn't be helpful, especially after the kerfuffle Riley had induced the last time they were there, so she avoided the bar entirely. A part of her, for a moment, wished that Spike were still around - he always seemed to attract trouble. Then again, he also always seemed to be annoyingly involved in every plot against her big and small, so that wish quickly faded away.

She was frustrated about Professor Walsh’s unknown status, about why she thought the secret of Adam was worth killing Buffy over, about Riley’s health and how she couldn’t trust the Initiative to have him in their best interests, about the other military guys who were now in town and apparently taking control over the whole thing… whatever that thing was, exactly…

There were way too many unknowns right now. It made her antsy.

The worst of which being some sociopathic Frankenstein’s-Monster-version of a demon soldier that she currently wasn’t able to even faze.

Buffy sighed heavily as she toed at a rock, kicking it off the sidewalk and into the grassy median as she strolled across Main toward Oak Park.

Then she realized where she was, and pursed her lips a little to keep from smiling too much. The last thing she needed were other pedestrians thinking she was crazy or something.

It wasn’t all that long ago, really, that she strolled this very path alongside Ripper. It was hard to believe that was just barely a year ago; in some ways it felt like eons had passed since high school. She couldn’t resist daydreaming a little bit, about what it might be like patrolling around with Ripper again right now. As frustrating as it had been to have to keep an eye on him during that whole mess, he’d actually been pretty fun, too… mischievous.

Mischievous in a way that made her wonder what sort of shenanigans they could’ve gotten up to with a whole day to themselves. She’d be grateful for his energy, today. Sure she wouldn’t want to do anything strictly _illegal_ , but she’d bet money he’d be up for a little fondling behind a tree much more than Giles would.

Buffy blushed a little and shook her head at herself. She wasn’t into that sort of excitement that came with the possibility of getting caught in public. Maybe if it was a tree way back in a quiet cemetery… or Miller’s Woods…

Thinking of the woods brought her out of her daydreams for a moment, and she made a mental note to patrol there at some point with the gang. Being so close to campus and the Initiative, she knew it wouldn’t be safe to patrol alone, but she also suspected it could be a good place for Adam to hide out, for the same reasons.

And then she was thinking of Ripper again, who’d wanted nothing more than to patrol with his Slayer - well, and to eat more of that stupid candy. Ripper who’d gotten a little horny just from them calling each other teasing names. Ripper who’d trapped her against the wall of an elevator and definitely almost… something, even before they’d really told one another how they felt about each other.

She wondered what it would be like to patrol with him now, that they were officially together and all that. Would he be as boyishly flirty as he was then, or was a part of that all about the excitement of danger that Ripper had been so keen on?

“Buffy!”

She jumped in surprise as Giles’ voice startled her, turning around to find him approaching her on the sidewalk.

“Good, you haven’t gotten far,” His smile was warm and a bit shy, and she furrowed her brow curiously at him.

“What’s up?”

“There really isn’t anything in today’s paper, and I wondered… well, I’d like to accompany you.” It wasn’t in a tone of worry for her safety, but one of hope, and she slowly smiled too.

Giles still wanted nothing more than to patrol with his Slayer.

His hands were tucked into his pockets, so she looped her arm around his elbow and tugged him against her side to walk along with her, the two of them immediately falling into step together.

“You’d like to accompany me, huh?” She teased. “Sure, we can 1700’s this thing.” Sometimes he was so… English. She was finding herself less and less often annoyed by that, and more often… fond.

He huffed, but when she glanced up at him he was still smiling as he looked down at the ground in front of them.

“I surprised you,” He noticed. “What were you thinking about?”

“A demon wouldn’t have surprised me,” She assured him, and then said, “I was thinking about you.”

“Oh?” He brightened immediately, curious, and she rolled her eyes.

“Just about how much of that mischievous sixteen-year-old might still exist in the shop owner we all know today.”

“Oh?” Now he sounded a bit nervous, and wary, and she felt the way his muscles tensed slightly.

“Ripper.” She added, as if it needed clarifying, which she knew it didn’t.

“And what on earth has you thinking about that?” He asked carefully, and she wasn’t sure what he was thinking exactly, but he was definitely giving off vibes of concern.

She gestured with her free hand out to the side.

“It was somewhere along this very sidewalk that I called you a ‘pillock’, and you got horny.”

“Buffy!” He exclaimed, embarrassed, but there was no one within listening distance to their conversation.

“It’s true.” She continued blithely. “I dropped a few British slang words and you got a boner.”

“I was sixteen,” He grumbled, “just having you breathing next to me gave me a boner.”

She raised her eyebrows and grinned in surprise at him, and he groaned and tilted his head away from her for a moment, rolling his eyes.

“Are you saying it doesn’t, now?” She couldn’t resist teasing, and he huffed again. He didn’t say anything for a second, but he did eventually speak up before she said anything else.

“Having you breathe next to me now…” He considered his words. “Pleases me. On a very deep, I suppose primal level. It is assurance that not only are you alive, as my Slayer, but you’re beside me. _Mine_.”

She shivered a little, she couldn’t help it, even though his tone was soft and sincere and not at all growly or arousing.

“Pretty sure _I’d_ have a boner right now, if I had a penis.” She commented, and he snorted out a guffawing laugh before he could rein it in.

“I am, of course, still often filled with desire for you.” He murmured after he was able to control his amusement, speaking lowly even though they were still relatively alone. “And you know that.”

“Course I do.” She assured him confidently, butting her head against his shoulder with fondness. There was no doubt between them anymore, on their feelings for one another. “I was just thinking about younger you, and how into the idea of patrolling with me you were.” She grinned up at him. “And I see that is a trait that hasn’t diminished with age.”

“Buffy,” He smiled a little bit softly at her, as if she’d missed the point, “whatever _traits_ I exhibited whilst under the effects of that blasted candy were traits I _already had_. I was simply far less concerned in hiding them.”

“Hmm, so…” She grinned wider as she pulled her arm free and turned to face him, walking in front of him backwards for a moment. “If I call you a prat again, you gonna get horny?” She teased lowly. His smile grew a bit more coy, as well, and he leaned his head down to bring them a little closer as he said,

“I have a bit more control over myself these days.”

“Oh?” She twitched her eyebrow upward and gave him a long, lingering look. Then, she decided, “Someday, when we’re not standing on the side of the street, I’m going to test you on that theory.”

His expression slowly faded into something more startled, distracted, and his feet drifted to a stop that he was clearly unaware of as he stared after her. She widened her grin again and then winked at him, before twisting back around and walking on normally, biting her lip to keep from laughing aloud when she eventually heard his footsteps scurry up behind her to catch up again.

**— — —**

“So, here it is… the latest in state-of-the-art combat technology.” Xander sighed heavily as he looked into the opened wiring chamber of the gun. “I gotta say, it doesn’t look that complicated.”

Buffy totally missed his sarcasm there.

“So have you repaired it?” She asked with more than a hint of urgency. She wasn’t convinced this blaster would really hurt Adam much, but if it even just paralyzed him for a moment, that was something.

“Almost. Just as soon as I get my master’s degree in advanced starship technology.” He tossed his pliers atop the work desk in frustration.

“Well… why don’t we experiment?” Willow tried helpfully. “Press some buttons, see what happens.”

“I’d like to, uh, veto that.” Giles piped up from behind them, seated on the couch as he folded laundry. He was oddly comfortable folding his boxers right there in front of everyone; perhaps the close quarters and stressful circumstances distracted him from his adherence to privacy.

Or, maybe he was finally taking Buffy’s suggestion to heart, and really loosening up around the others. She wasn’t sure if _she_ was fine with everyone seeing their underwear, though, or how… _casually_ Giles folded hers and set it next to his own.

Oh God, the image of his long fingers on her panties was too domestic, too arousing, and this was _so_ very not the time for those feelings. Buffy stepped closer toward Xander and Willow, quickly refocusing.

“Seconded.” Xander agreed with Giles, giving Willow a look. “It’s called a blaster, Will. A word that tends to discourage experimentation. Now, if it were called the _orgasminator_ , I’d be the first to try your basic button-press approach.”

Willow smirked a little at his joke, but Buffy didn’t.

“Just tell me, can you repair it or not?” She didn’t have much patience left, not after three fruitless nights - and days - of patrolling.

“I’m working on it, I’m working on it.” Xander promised. “If I blow a hole in my mom’s azalea patch, the neighbors will not be pleased.” He muttered as he picked up a screwdriver.

Buffy paced back toward the couch and curled herself onto the corner cushion, resting her head in her hand, using her palm to block the light from her eyes. The stress of the last week was beginning to give her a bit of a headache.

“You alright?” Giles worried, shifting his position from the other end of the couch to sit by her side. He put his hand on her knee for a moment. “You’ve been patrolling around the clock for three days straight, perhaps you could use some -”

“What, some rest?” Buffy guessed wryly. “There’s a demonoid killing machine out there, Giles. It doesn’t really work the night shift.”

“I was going to say perhaps you could allow me to call Wesley and Faith now, for assistance, but, um, now you mention it… gathering your strength might not be a bad idea.” He gave her a look, his chiding-Watcher look, and Buffy sighed as she looked toward Xander’s back.

“Just get the blaster working. That’s all the strength I need.”

Giles squeezed her knee for a moment, comforting or maybe understanding, and then pulled his hand away.

“Are you sure?” Willow asked gently, turning toward her as Xander continued to fiddle with the gun on the table.

“Why, because ray guns aren’t in the Slayer handbook?” Buffy sassed, and then said seriously, “Will, you haven’t seen this Adam thing. He’s the Terminator without the bashful charm. He’s deadly, and the last time we met, he kicked my ass.”

“Oh no, blast away, by all means.” She assured. “I only meant… well, if he is so deadly, why not blast him _and_ get some extra Slayer mojo on him? We could at least get Faith up to speed with the situation…” She reasoned lightly. Buffy sighed heavily, and folded her arms across her chest as she slouched back against the couch.

Willow had a very good point, but it wasn’t entirely easy for her to explain. On one hand, she thought the whole idea of ‘one girl in all the world to fight against the forces of darkness’ was a _terrible_ strategy, even with that one girl having superpowers. On the other hand, however, every other Slayer before her has worked alone… other than their Watcher, they didn’t even have their own Scooby Gang to help. Buffy felt almost a bit defensive about that; that maybe she should be better at being a Slayer on her own. Maybe she wasn’t really all that good at the job, if she continually needed the other Slayer’s help.

And Faith was definitely the type of person to let everyone know that. Plus, she was _Faith_. They worked much better cities apart than they did side-by-side. Anyway, Buffy was the older and more experienced Slayer, if not by much - she should be better inherently. She felt a primal desire to prove that.

She didn’t want to call Faith and Wesley until it was absolutely necessary.

“Not yet.” Buffy finally said, firmly. “Not until we know more about what these new guys from Washington really want. Not until I hear news about Walsh’s condition.”

She could feel Giles bristle beside her, just at the mention of the professor, and she glanced toward him to find him glaring down at the socks he was folding up together.

“You remember how interested she and the other scientists were in finding out what I could do?” Buffy pointed out. “What do you think is gonna happen when they find out there’s _two_ Slayers in town? Right now the Initiative is more focused on Adam. That could change.”

Giles made a face that said she’d made her point, but he still looked sour. There was certainly no love lost in him for Maggie Walsh.

“Graham just keeps telling me that Riley’s ‘fine’,” Willow offered carefully as a mild diversion in subject, and Buffy sighed again, but this time more weary, and relaxed her arms.

“Maybe. What even is the Initiative’s version of fine?” Buffy noted, and Willow grimaced in agreement. “They could be forcing him back onto that medication, whatever it was, brainwashing him, torturing him for all I know.”

“From what we’ve seen, I doubt they’ll be trying to hurt him.” Giles comforted her carefully, but his brow was still furrowed, for other reasons now.

“The only thing I know for certain is that my friend is locked away, and I haven’t been helping. He might not be an official member of the Scooby Gang, but we were letting him in on stuff.” Giles was still fiddling with the same pair of socks, and Buffy gently reached to take the bundle from his hands, trailing her fingers across his knuckles before tossing the socks into the basket with the rest of the folded laundry. “I really don’t think he’d easily give away our secrets - not like we’ve told him anything really serious yet - but if they try to force it out of him…”

“Maybe Giles has a point.” Willow reasoned lightly, watching their interaction. “Riley is their ‘Top Gun’ guy. It doesn’t make sense that they’d hurt him. Even for information on a bunch of ‘civilian teenagers’.” She half-shrugged and smiled, attempting to ease the mood in the room a bit.

Just then a sharp sound from the work table drew their attention, and Xander jumped as the blaster released a small electrical explosion and spat angrily. He twitched oddly for a moment, his hair standing almost on end, and hesitantly looked toward the group. They all stared back at him, silently wondering if he was alright, and he blinked and swallowed as he shook his shoulders.

“The I- Initiative has all those- ” Xander’s head ticced to the side and he swallowed again. “Those brainwashy, b-b-behavior mod guys.” He pointed out shakily.

“So?” Willow questioned.

“So what- what happens when they start not liking his behavior?” Xander finished, his body seeming to slowly relax after the electrical jolt. Willow turned back to face Buffy and Giles, worry furrowing her brow.

Xander gestured hesitantly to the gun, and slowly returned his focus toward it when he realized the others weren’t paying attention to him any longer.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Forrest doesn’t trust him at the moment.” Buffy mused. “He definitely doesn’t trust _me_ anymore - I honestly don’t know if he ever really did.”

“They all always seemed so nice in our study groups.” Willow lamented in disappointment.

“Erm, speaking of study groups,” Giles spoke up, carefully poignant. “Whatever happens, this coming Monday, Buffy, you should return to your classes.” When she gave him a look, he narrowed his eyes slightly and pointed out, “This isn’t just about your grades. You don’t want to draw any undue attention to yourself.”

Buffy inhaled deeply, and sighed loudly, as she slouched against the back cushion again. He did have a point.

**... ... ...**

That night, the gang patrolled Old Sunnydale, Anya meeting up with them after locking up the Magic Box for the night.

“Isn’t this great? Nothing like a good old fashioned vampire hunt to get the mind right.” Xander quipped with a grin, shining his flashlight beneath his own chin for a moment to make a face. Anya looked at him warily.

Willow and Giles also each held flashlights, but Buffy led the way without one. She had better eyesight in the dark and, besides that, Giles did a good job of using his beam to light the way for both of them.

“If there _are_ any vampires.” Buffy grumbled. She wasn’t sensing anything nearby, and she hadn’t much the last few nights either. It seemed the word was out that there was a crazy, unstoppable half-demon on the loose, and while generally vampires weren’t known for their intelligence, they did have their survival instincts.

“Feeling restless, Buff?” Willow sympathized.

“Whenever I’m feeling restless, I get Xander to have sex with me.” Anya commented helpfully, and Xander groaned and covered his blushing face with his hands, his flashlight beam going haywire for a moment.

“For heaven’s sake.” Giles grumbled, studiously moving forward without looking at any of them, but Buffy had frozen, catching something in the movement of Xander’s flashlight, and she held her arms out to halt the rest of the gang.

She reached for Xander’s wrist, and dragged it away from his face to point his light back toward the suspicious pair of trees in question.

The odd sort of hissing noise she hadn’t been sure she was really hearing now made sense.

Strung up between the trees like some kind of grotesque butterfly pinned to a board, was a demon she’d never seen before. It’s outer skin was red, but it was also still smoking and sizzling, so she couldn’t be sure whether it was a natural tint, or because it had been burned… among other things.

Its chest was flayed open wide, giving them a clear view of its rib cage and spine. All of its organs were missing.

Buffy and Willow both gaped up silently, too shocked and horrified to make a noise, but Anya let out a startled sort of squeak as she latched onto Xander’s arm. He was gaping silently too, his flashlight beam shaking unsteadily over the profile of the dead demon.

“What’s that?” Giles wondered, realizing he’d walked some distance from the others, and uncertain whether or not one of them spoke.

“I… don’t know.” Xander swallowed heavily, and Giles followed all of their stares upward to the trees.

“Bloody hell.” He whispered in dismay, slowly pulling his glasses from his face as he stared.

**... ... ...**

“I’ve never seen anything like that.” Buffy muttered, finding it a bit hard to focus as she slowly paced across the floor.

“And I can go a long, healthy stretch without seeing anything like that again.” Xander commented, his tone just as out of it.

They were all unsettled, even Giles who had seen some things in his day (and done some things, too, from what Buffy knew - though torturing and flaying a demon to later string it up like a party favor was not exactly one of them).

Willow was curled up in a ball on the center of the couch, her knees tucked up beneath her chin and her arms wrapped around them. Anya sat slouched beside her, her continued silence telling enough that she was just as uncomfortable as the rest of them. Perhaps even more so, considering she’d once _been_ a demon.

This had been more than just a slaying. It had been brutal.

“It had to be Adam who killed it, but why?” Willow wondered, sounding as if she weren’t sure she really wanted to know.

“He’s studying biology.” Buffy recognized the display from the way dissections were pictured in her textbook. Plus, from the way he had talked about murdering that poor little boy… “Human, demon… whatever he can get his hands on and tear apart.”

Giles, studiously managing the electric teakettle in the corner, made a noise of distaste. She glanced toward him to see him remove his glasses from his face and rub the bridge of his nose.

“Learning what makes things work.” Willow followed.

“I really don’t want to be around for the final exam.” Xander commented.

“It’s not coming to that.” Buffy promised them. “The Initiative created this thing and they can’t stop it - but we will.”

Xander looked thoughtful for a moment before he spoke again,

“Adam only bruised me, and maybe I’d gotten lucky, but he didn’t incapacitate you either.” He pointed out to Buffy. She paused, considering what he was saying. “He could’ve killed us just as easily as he’d killed Angleman, but he didn’t. He was testing you… learning you.”

“At least he didn’t gore me to do it.” Buffy grumbled, feeling a bit pale at the implications.

“Question.” Xander piped up more lightly. “Will hiding in a cabin with stockpiled chocolate goods be any part of this plan?”

“No.” Buffy was too tired to bounce off of his attempts at humor, and any thoughts of stockpiled chocolate still made her pretty uncomfortable, anyway.

Xander pouted as he collapsed onto the couch between his girlfriend and his best friend.

“Told you.” He muttered to Willow.

“What’s first?” Anya asked, her eyes understanding as she watched Buffy continue to pace. She’d learned to recognize Buffy’s serious, ‘Slayer-in-the-zone’ face.

“You need to be careful, Buffy, if Adam has indeed been testing you.” Giles was speaking in the most Watchery voice she’d heard in some time, as he rounded the couch with a makeshift tray of tea. She started to give him a bit of a look at his tone, but she caught the expression on his face and realized that he was just trying to hide the fact that he was extremely worried. “I know patrols have been quiet the last couple of days, but if he’s been out hunting demons to- to study, then he could have been using his time to follow you and study _you_ , as well.”

“I would have sensed him following me.” Buffy protested, her tone going a little sharp mostly against the fear that if he _had_ been following her, she’d had absolutely no idea.

“He’s partly human, and - er, technoid?” He glanced toward Willow at his phrasing, and she shrugged a little as she reached for a mug. He looked back to Buffy, his expression grave. “He might be able to hide his demon essence from discovery.”

“Great.” Buffy commented dryly.

She thought about how to answer Anya’s question, as everyone took up a comforting cup of tea and prepared it to their own liking. She didn’t even realize that Giles had also quietly prepared her a cup as well, until he’d rounded her to sit on the edge of the recliner behind her, and touched her hip lightly with his free hand to offer her a mug.

“Oh. Thanks.” She gave him a small smile as she cradled it in her hands, and he reached for his own cup, taking a careful sip. Buffy followed suit, and then sighed after swallowing, resigned. “Riley.” She decided, and noticed how the others shifted slightly on the couch and shared quick glances to one another. She looked over her shoulder at Giles, and he was focused pointedly on his tea.

She didn’t call attention to it, exactly, but she did touch her hand to his shoulder, a warning for him before she perched herself on his knee. He immediately looped his free arm around her waist, and his grasp was comfortable and relaxed. He might be worried about her safety, but he wasn’t worried about her intentions, and she appreciated that.

“I’m not leaving him down there with the people that created this thing. He’s been a puppet in this whole mess and he doesn’t deserve that… he’s a good guy, who’s tried to help us. We need to help him, too.” The others nodded in slow agreement (Willow more readily than the others), and Buffy took a drink of her tea to settle her plan, before putting the cup onto the table in front of her. Going after Adam right now might be near impossible, but saving Riley - that was something they could do. “Okay. Will, I need you to hack into the security mainframe and buy me a ten-minute shutdown of operation systems.”

“That could be…” Willow winced.

“Tricky,” Buffy agreed, but encouraged her with complete belief in her abilities, “not impossible. If you can’t do it on-line, then use magic.” Willow glanced at Giles, and then relaxed a little, so Buffy figured he’d given her non-verbal encouragement. “Xander, any gear you’ve been saving for a rainy day, I want you to give to me.”

“You want stealthy stuff?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No, we tried sneaking in. This time I’m going to use force. I can’t be hunting down Adam while I’m also hiding out from the Initiative - I figure if I make a point in breaking Riley out of there, I’ll be killing two birds with one stone.”

“Show them you mean business.” Anya followed along, and Buffy nodded.

“I’ll go in through the elevator shaft and use the cables as tow lines, then blast open the facility doors and find the infirmary,” Buffy explained, and while Giles had been silent during all this, he stroked his thumb against her side approvingly.

“Am I really worth all that?” Riley’s voice wondered from behind them, and Buffy and Giles both startled, having not heard his arrival.

“Riley!” Buffy stood to her feet in surprise, facing him. “How did you get out?!”

“I walked,” He replied almost glibly, and Willow leaned forward on the couch.

“They didn’t try to stop you?” She asked incredulously.

“Oh, they did. Repeatedly.” He smiled happily as he approached the group a bit closer, and as he came further into the light Buffy was again surprised to see how relatively healthy he looked. Considering he’d been skewered, anyway. “But uh, then I told them they couldn’t keep me without a major ass-kicking, one way or another. And here I am.” He smiled warmly at Buffy, which she returned hesitantly.

“That’s great, Riley…” Xander commented, slapping his hands together as he hopped to his feet. “And, you know there’s no polite way to ask you this, but, uh… did they put a chip in your brain?” Xander stood almost nose-to-nose with the guy as he peered suspiciously at his forehead.

“Beg your pardon?” Riley frowned.

“Forget it,” Willow tossed a sugar cube at the back of Xander’s head, and gave him a quick look, making him slink back to his spot on the couch. “We’re happy to have you back,” She continued to Riley, “We were pretty worried about you there for a while, mister.”

“You were?” He looked honestly pleased to hear that. “Me too.” He glanced around to each other of them, somber, before landing his gaze on Giles.

Buffy noticed that her lover’s face was studiously blank, and she inwardly sighed. Maybe he _was_ still a little bothered about Riley.

“Look, I know my behavior was… pretty out there. I apologize.” Riley spoke mostly toward Giles, who blinked up at him, quietly gauging his sincerity - or maybe doing some silent manly threatening thing that Buffy didn’t know about. But after a minute he gave Riley a small nod, and lowered his eyes to take a drink of his tea.

Riley significantly relaxed at that, so maybe it was a guy thing. Buffy’s lip twitched in annoyance, and she opened her mouth to make a comment on the needless excess bit of testosterone, but then Riley was talking again,

“I- I really appreciate what you guys have tried to do for me - what you were planning to do for me,” He glanced between the group on the couch and Buffy. “But I’m here now, and you guys are the ones in trouble, and I want to help. Barring a few… blips,” He glanced hesitantly toward Giles, again, “you guys have had my back, when the Initiative didn’t. I see that, now. You easily could have chosen not to trust me, leave me behind, but you didn’t. You tried to help me - my head is clear now. And even if I’m confused about the Initiative, I _do_ know _you’re_ the good guys.” He then turned toward Buffy specifically, and gestured his hand toward Willow and Xander, “And the way you inspire the others? It inspires me. _You_ inspire me.”

Giles cleared his throat warningly, and Riley blushed and ducked his head.

“Okay, there’s a bit of hero worship maybe,” He admitted with embarrassment. “But just as a friend.” He lifted his head to meet Buffy’s eyes, earnest. “I swear.”

Giles raised his eyebrow, perhaps a bit dubious, but he didn’t say anything. He just pursed his lips and took another drink of tea. Buffy blinked, not really sure how she was supposed to reply to that.

“Look, I,” Riley hesitated for a moment, awkwardly now. “Taking down Adam’s going to be tough. There’s no way to predict what he’ll throw at us. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“It doesn’t… quite work like that here, Riley,” Buffy admitted hesitantly. Granted, the timing of his arrival _had_ made it seem like she was going all Major General on the group. “We work together on plans. I just… I mean when it comes down to a specific mission maybe, yeah, I guess I help make sure everybody’s working their strengths,”

“You do, Buffy.” Giles stated firmly, calmly, giving her a look that said clearly that she should speak more confidently about herself. “You’re the Slayer. Even I will defer to your instincts… to a degree.” He added that last bit in a drawl, and she felt herself blushing slightly. “And you have excellent instincts. Have you forgotten leading your entire high school class against an apocalyptic demon and a small army of vampires?”

“You did that?” Riley stared at her in amazement, and Buffy folded her arms across her chest and gave Giles a wry look.

“Really not helping with the hero worship thing here, Giles.”

He pressed his lips together like he was hiding a smile, and averted his eyes from her.

“I don’t… really know how to be a part of a team like that.” Riley admitted with disappointment. “Where there isn’t a clear leader at all times. I don’t know how not to follow orders - all my life, that’s what I’ve been groomed to do. They say jump, I ask how high, I get the job done. …And it’s become obvious to me that the Initiative is not the right job anymore.”

He looked like a lost puppy, and when Buffy caught Willow’s expression, she could see that she was thinking the exact same thing.

Okay. Bringing in Riley was a set deal, then.

“When I quit the Council…” Buffy began slowly, and Giles looked up at her in surprise, clearly wondering where she was going with this. “The group of Watchers I mentioned to you before,” She clarified to Riley, who had looked confused for a moment but now nodded in understanding. “When they fired Giles, it was scary. And he won’t ever admit it,” She met Giles’ eyes compassionately as she spoke, “but we were both scared. But, it’s okay now.” Giles kept quiet, though he gave her a soft look with his eyes.

“See, that’s where you and I are different.” Riley slowly shook his head. “I just suck at the whole grey area thing.”

“It’s a choice.” Buffy told him. “You could go back in there, and maybe make some changes from the inside. But you risk them continuing whatever experiments they had been running on you in the first place. Or, you could quit the Initiative, and fight demons in your own way.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Riley sighed, and moved over to slouch in the tiny space between Willow and the arm of the couch. “I don’t even know what ‘my way’ is.” He didn’t seem to notice Xander’s slightly annoyed look at being squished up even tighter between Willow and Anya, but Anya put her hand on Xander’s thigh and looked quite content with herself.

The four of them bunched on the couch like that looked a little humorous to Buffy, but she managed to keep her smile hidden. The conversation was a serious one.

“Then it’s time to find out.” She informed him, settling gently atop Giles’ knee again, casually reaching for her tea as she leaned against the arm of his chair. “You need to _make_ this simpler, because you don’t have a lot of time left to choose.”

“I’m a soldier. Take that away, what’s left?” Riley wondered, pouting at his outstretched legs, and Willow patted his hand comfortingly.

“A lot, Riley,” The redhead assured him. “You’re a good guy. You care about your friends. You care about protecting the world. You’re smart, you understand how people work and when you don’t, you strive to figure it out…” She paused, and grimaced as she recalled what Buffy soon realized was the eviscerated demon they’d found on patrol. “In a much _healthier_ and _nicer_ way than Adam.”

“There’s a low bar.” Riley snorted dryly, but he did appear less down on himself after that.

Giles curled his arm around Buffy again, his hand on her waist a little more firm than it had been previously. She looked down at him over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes a bit, but he avoided her gaze as he drank his tea, as if he weren’t doing anything wrong.

She shifted her leg slightly, slow enough so the others wouldn’t notice her movement, but pressed the side of her knee firmly between his legs. He silently sucked in a breath and his fingers gripped her warningly, but she kept on pressing then, just until his expression of confused warning turned into a wince. Then she held that, continuing to stare at him with an almost-glare, until he met her gaze and squeezed her waist again in understanding, and she relaxed. He let out an audible breath, and shifted slightly in the seat beneath her, still wincing.

“Are you done?” She asked him, privately, though not so quietly that the others didn’t hear her. It’d have been impossible to have a quiet conversation in here, anyway. She didn’t need to finish the _‘marking your territory’_ statement, because he knew. This time his wince was one of apology, and he nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, sincere though not so contrite, and Buffy looped her free arm across his shoulders so she could brush her fingers through his hair. She _did_ understand, after all, the territorial desires. She’d acted the same way around Olivia, after all… though she liked to think she’d been mature about it.

“Did we miss something?” Xander wondered, and Buffy ignored him as she carefully held her mug steady atop her leg before bending her head down and kissing Giles softly. While his testosterone-fueled jealousy was a bit annoying, she also found it endearing. He’d mentioned before that he still occasionally struggled with his own insecurities, and she couldn’t fault him for simply being human. Not even when it annoyed her.

She kept the kiss short, for the sake of everyone else in the room, and Giles looked appreciative when they parted. It honestly probably wasn’t a bad idea, anyway, to pointedly remind Riley that she _was_ ‘a taken woman’... at least until this hero worship thing died down a little.

**— — —**

After two more days of silence on the demon front, the gang decided it was safe enough for them to all return to their own homes - though they did keep on their toes during the day, and met up every evening at Giles’ place.

Plus, Buffy had to agree that after the weekend, it wouldn’t be a good idea to miss any more class days. While the problem of Adam did take up most of her thinking space, she was still aware that she needed to keep up her grades and her attendance lest the school drop her out.

The last thing she needed was a counselor calling up her mom to check in on things - for all Joyce knew, the worst Buffy dealt with these days was the everyday vampire on the occasional patrol.

And she _definitely_ was not about to get into the “How’s the boyfriend?” conversation, because Joyce would be curious, and there was no way Buffy would be able to hide the fact that their relationship had become more intimate.

“The puzzle, it seems to me, is why Adam has stayed dormant as long as he has.” Giles mused thoughtfully as he returned to the living room from the kitchen, where he’d set aside the now-empty tea tray.

They were nearing the end of their daily gathering at Giles’, all of them uncomfortable with the fact that there hasn’t been a word on Adam in the last number of days.

Buffy was leaning against the fireplace mantle, and he sat on the edge of his coffee table near her, within reach of her hand that she rested atop his shoulder without thought. Giles still wasn’t the one for big public displays of affection (unless he forgot they had company, or was under a spell, or she sufficiently distracted him…), but he didn’t seem to mind that Buffy often wanted to touch him or stand near him when they were in a room together.

“When he’s not making performance art out of other demons, that is.” Willow pointed out, though none of them needed reminding of that visceral image.

“He’s probably working off of an autonomic power source,” Riley figured, likely thinking of all the tech he knew of in the Initiative. “And because he’s straight out of the box, he needs to charge up a while.” He sat forward in the recliner, leaning his elbows on his knees as he distractedly snagged a few pretzels from the bowl on the coffee table.

“Okay… what’s he charging up _for_?” Buffy kept the thought tank going.

“Based on the clues, I’ll go with killing spree.” Xander announced from his place on the couch beside Willow.

“And that’s a best-case scenario.” Riley added, bringing the slight attempt at light-heartedness to a dark screeching halt. He stood, and paced a bit before he noticed the abandoned blaster Xander had brought with him. “I suppose a little fire-power would be a good idea right now.” Riley reached for the Initiative weapon and fiddled with a familiarity that had Xander gaping after it beeped to life.

“Hey! How did you do that?” He demanded, leaping up from the couch and standing next to Riley, staring at the gun which now seemed in working order. “Is there like an on-off button somewhere in here?” He snatched the gun and looked at the frame, and Riley just gave him a tired look.

“Blasters are easy. Adam won’t be.” Riley replied.

“Since Professor Walsh designed him, any chance she left instructions lying around somewhere?” Willow asked hopefully.

“Well, if she did, they’re going to be in the Initiative,” Buffy pointed out.

“Which we can’t get into without mounting a major offensive.” Giles finished.

“Speak for yourself,” Riley half-grinned, but the others all gave him serious and wary looks, and he shrugged a little, sobering. “I’m just saying.” He’d been continuing to work with his squad-mates since releasing himself from the infirmary, keeping his meetings with the Scoobies a secret.

“I must admit, a man truly on the inside would be -”

“- a really good idea.” Buffy agreed with Giles before he’d even finished his statement.

“Okay, you guys don’t find it creepy when they do that?” Riley checked with the others, gesturing at Buffy and Giles, but Willow and Xander just glanced at one another and then shrugged.

“When they do what?” They both asked at the same time, and Riley pursed his lips. Smiling a little in amusement at their antics, Buffy focused the topic again,

“Are you sure you wanna be double-agent-guy?” It hadn’t exactly been official, up to this point.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what you’d call me, but… I will share information. It’s the least I can do.” Riley replied, still not one-hundred percent certain about completely turning his back on the Initiative.

“Riley’s right, it _is_ the least he can do.” Xander quipped a bit snidely, and Giles gave him a warning look. Before he could remind Xander that they were trusting Riley now, his phone began to ring.

He gave it the same perplexed look he always did, as if he couldn’t understand why the device even existed, before he got back to his feet and went to answer it.

“Hello? …Yes, she is. Um, it’s for you.” Giles held the cordless toward Buffy, sounding just as confused as she felt.

‘Mom?’ She mouthed, wondering who else would call Giles looking for her, but he shook his head. Furrowing her brow, she rounded the couch to take the phone from him, and he hovered nearby, curious.

“Hello?”

“Is this Buffy Summers?”

“Speaking.” Buffy answered, frowning even more deeply as she tried to place the mildly familiar female voice.

“Oh great! I thought it was kind of weird they wanted me to call Mr. Giles to find you, but there you are!”

“… _Harmony_?” Buffy realized, and that was confirmed by the girlish squeal of excitement on the other end of the phone. She winced and pulled it away from her ear slightly. Giles raised his eyebrow in surprise, and Buffy slowly shook her head at him.

“Right in one! Wow, I really don’t remember you being this smart.” The vampire sounded legitimately perplexed by this, and Buffy closed her eyes and counted to three under her breath, doing her best not to snark.

“Why are you calling, Harmony?” She asked slowly. Where was she calling from? Why did this not sound like a threat? Who were the ‘they’ she had mentioned?

“Right. Angel. I’ll patch you through. I know how to do that, now!”

“Wha- who- you-” Angel? Buffy was flummoxed.

“By the way - no hard feelings about Spikey-bear, okay? I miss him, but I have Robert now, and Robert is much nicer to me. Spike was _mean_ , and I deserve better love than that!” She sounded as if she were reading a pamphlet from a therapist’s office, or something.

Buffy was still trying to figure out what to say, when she heard the line click and a different sort of air over the phone.

“…Buffy?” Angel greeted hesitantly, and she took a deep breath.

She hadn’t heard his voice in a while, and she was surprised to find that she’d sort of missed the familiarity. And then, she felt guilty. She looked toward Giles, who was simply watching expectantly as he waited for the mysterious call to finish.

“Was that _Harmony_ Harmony, I just spoke to?” Buffy asked Angel, and he made a noise against his teeth.

“Yeah… long story. Look,” He sighed softly. “I don’t have long, I just wanted to let you know, Faith and Wesley are on their way to Sunnydale.”

“What?” Buffy blurted, alarmed. “Why?” They were coming of their own volition? Was there something _else_ going on now, too?

“Faith has been having some confusing dreams, apparently. Besides that, we… have a, um, friend, who’s something of a psychic.”

“A _what_?” Buffy blurted out a snort, incredulous. Vague Slayer dreams were one thing, but she’d never heard of an _actual_ psychic, before. Giles made a face, clearly asking what was wrong, and Buffy tucked her free hand into his, shaking her head once. She’d tell him once the call was finished.

“Another long story,” Angel sounded like he was glowering. “Be _careful_ Buffy? Please? What our friend saw… it wasn’t good.”

“Does this friend’s visions often come true?” Buffy asked, and Angel’s hesitance before answering made her grow a little more serious about the conversation.

“More often than we’d like.” He admitted softly.

“What did they see?” Buffy asked, and when he paused again, she grew terse. “This is _my_ town, Angel, and if I’m going to protect it then I need to know about what threats I’m facing!”

When Giles realized who she was talking to, his hand tightened around hers with a twitch. His expression betrayed nothing, but she rubbed her thumb against his knuckle anyway.

“It was hard to piece out, but… military guys?” Angel finally answered. “A lot of guns. You all in a… maybe a science facility. And some kind of creature that no one seemed to be able to stop. Then you all get separated, and… picked off. One by one.”

Buffy took a slow, deep breath, and stared into Giles’ eyes.

“You said Faith is on her way?” At her words, his gaze sharpened.

“With Wesley, yes.” Angel confirmed.

“Okay. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Buffy, what’s going on? Do you know what this is about?” Angel asked quickly, clearly annoyed that he was so out of the loop.

“My town, Angel.” Buffy reminded him. “You have L.A., I have Sunnydale. I appreciate you sparing Faith and Wes - honestly, I was probably going to call for them soon, anyway. We’ve got this handled.”

“You’ve got it handled, but you were going to call for Faith’s help?” Angel pointed out dubiously.

“Are we finished here?”

“I- …We can’t have a conversation?” Angel was speaking softly again. “It’s been a while.”

“A conversation about what?” Buffy sighed gently. While she had missed the familiarity of his voice, she and Angel weren’t the type of people who could just be friends now, not after everything. Spike had been right about that.

Angel’s silence, once again, was telling.

“Goodbye, Angel.” Buffy said, softening her tone as well. “Be well.”

“You too.”

She ended the call, and then held onto the cordless for a moment as she continued to look at Giles.

“Angel? What did he want?” He finally questioned, and she gave his hand a squeeze before she shifted away to return the phone to its cradle.

“To warn me. Apparently, Wesley and Faith are already on their way.” Everyone looked surprised, at that, and Buffy turned her gaze from Giles to the others. “They got a… tip. They know something serious is going down here, though they aren’t quite as in the know as we are.”

“Extra Slayer mojo might be just the thing we need,” Willow brightened hopefully. “Just like I said. Right? The two of you could totally take down Adam… right?”

“That would, of course, be assuming that _the two of them_ actually work together,” Xander piped in knowingly, giving Buffy a look. “I’ve seen you two patrol together. It’s a little less teamwork and a little more competition.”

Buffy made a face at him, but Giles was also giving her that knowing look like he agreed with Xander, and she huffed and folded her arms across her chest defensively.

“We fought the Mayor together!” She reminded them.

“Not… exactly. Not like how this is going to be,” Willow’s tone was gentler than her wordage, but not by much. “She had her role to play and she did it well, but when it came down to battle tactics, she was hiding out for most of the fight so we didn’t show our hand.”

“You two will need to learn to truly fight side-by-side, if you want hope to defeat Adam.” Giles admitted seriously.

“Our Watchers will need to learn to train us side-by-side, then.” Buffy challenged him with a raised eyebrow. He grimaced for a moment, but then nodded.

“You’re right.” He agreed.

The previous summer had been a vast improvement to senior year, but it hadn’t been perfect, or very pretty at times. The Slayers had more of a rough sibling rivalry than anything else, and the guys… well, half the time Buffy had no idea what had been going through their minds. They had their own sort of rivalry going on. Wesley had frequently looked vexed, and Giles showed off and snarked a bit too much. While Wesley had agreed that the Council was not all they touted themselves to be, and wanted to remove himself from their influence, he also believed Giles was _too far_ removed and a bit too… ‘chaotic’, in his words, ‘to be a proper Watcher’.

Buffy had snapped at him about that, startling all three of them entirely, and Faith had actually been the one to deescalate the situation and deem that day’s training finished.

There had been unspoken respect amongst the four of them by the time Faith and Wesley had decided to move to L.A. on a more permanent basis, and a sincere agreement that they worked well together, but best apart. Their brief visits up to this point have been manageable, even… pleasant, in moments, but mounting a full offensive against Adam was going to be a challenge.

Buffy noticed the look Willow and Xander gave one another. Amusement, but like they were also gearing up for some drama. Buffy frowned a bit pouty at them, but Riley was the one to speak up,

“Who’s Faith?”

**— — —**

“They still haven’t released the full profile on Adam, and we’re having zero luck tracking him.” Riley complained, leaning back on his hand, frowning up at the fluffy sky above them. He’d joined Buffy and Willow for a picnic lunch out in the grassy field, along with Graham. Buffy hadn’t seen Forrest since their confrontation in the Initiative after Adam, which she didn’t mind.

“I don’t think they’re going to,” Graham suspected carefully, and Riley nodded ruefully.

“Not to me, in any case. Sorry, Buffy,” He glanced toward her in apology. “I haven’t exactly made it a secret that I’m still supporting your side of things, and Forrest has got a lot of the guys… well, I wouldn’t say they’re _against_ me, but, they definitely question me more than they used to.”

“There shouldn’t be sides at all,” Buffy grumbled, frustrated.

“Other than, ‘our side’, and ‘Adam’s side’.” Willow piped up. “Cause, pretty sure _he’s_ on a side I don’t wanna be on.”

Buffy nodded in agreement to that, and took a bite of her sandwich.

“He thinks you’ve been using Riley from the very beginning to infiltrate our operation,” Graham supplied.

“Adam?” Buffy asked, confused. She and Riley didn’t otherwise react to Graham’s statement, though Willow twitched slightly. Luckily, Graham didn’t seem to notice.

“No, Forrest. He uh, _really_ doesn’t like you.” Graham chuckled uncomfortably, and Buffy shrugged.

“It’s not my job to have people like me. My job is to be the Slayer. And dealing with problems like Adam doesn’t give me time for, for…”

“Bureaucracy?” Willow supplied, and Buffy pointed at her.

“Exactly.”

“Is that why you quit the uh, the Council?” Riley wondered curiously, and Graham furrowed his brow.

“What council?” He asked.

“Slayer stuff,” Buffy waved it away, and while Graham looked a little miffed that Riley knew something he didn’t, he didn’t push.

“Well… I should get going.” Graham sighed as he pushed himself to his feet. “If Forrest catches me out here with you guys, he’ll gripe at me for the rest of the night.”

“See you later,” Riley shared a nod with his friend, and once the three of them were alone, he leaned a bit in Buffy’s direction, curiosity all over his face again.

“It wasn’t just the bureaucracy,” Buffy told Riley as she opened up her sandwich and picked out the meat and cheese to eat slice by slice. “It’s the Council’s entire way of doing things. They’ve all been sitting behind desks and burying themselves in their books for far too long - they can’t see what’s _really_ going on in the world around them. They’re outdated, they’re -”

“Tired of the stakes and broadswords?” Riley joked with a grin.

“Well, no, those make sense - you remember what Giles told you? Sometimes that’s the only way to kill demons. I mean, have I told you about the guy I had to blow up with a rocket launcher?” Buffy pointed out, and Willow nodded emphatically as Riley widened his eyes in surprise. “He had this whole thing about ‘no man-made weapon could kill him’. And had the Council been in charge of things, I probably would’ve been left floundering. But we realized those books had been written back when most man-made weapons were made of iron and wood, and we thought out of the box. I guess most weapons _do_ have their time and place - but I still prefer the ol’ dependable stake where it works.”

“A rocket launcher? God, you _are_ badass.”

“Hey, no swooning allowed, buddy,” Willow teased, elbowing Riley, who leaned back on his hand again and averted his eyes from Buffy, blushing.

“ _I_ haven’t even used a rocket launcher,” He muttered to himself.

“Anyway,” Buffy continued brusquely, “we also tend to disagree on the acceptable number of casualties, so that alone is enough for me not to like them.”

“What’s your acceptable number?” Riley asked, and by his tone, she just knew that the Initiative had their number as well - and it likely didn’t match hers, either.

“Zero.” She replied firmly, and he blinked, but nodded in acceptance. He didn’t have to say anything for both of them to know that he was thinking that was a bit ridiculous, but she didn’t care. When she started thinking that an innocent life lost was okay, well, that would be the time to hang up her Slayer hat.

It was one of the biggest disagreements she still had with Faith.

“I guess you never forgave ‘em for firing Giles either, huh?” Riley mused with a tiny glint in his eye, and Buffy shifted on the blanket.

“Honestly, firing Giles was probably the best thing they’ve done yet,” She admitted, and Willow snorted. When he glanced over to give her a curious look, she quickly took a drink of her soda to hide her amusement.

“So… uh, are you patrolling tonight? Can I join you?” Riley asked, and Buffy shrugged.

“You don’t have any soldier-y duties?”

“No…” He glowered a little. “They’ve been totally close-lipped about Professor Walsh, and without her leading the team… well, all I can do is keep the guys’ morale up. The heads from Washington have already taken over leading our patrols, and they’re so out of their league here…”

“You’re saying they know even less about dealing with the evil supernatural than you guys do?!” Buffy pretended to be shocked, and Riley gave her a dry look. She gave him a wide, innocent smile, and then a nod. “Sure, you can join me. But no guns, mister. I’m still mostly on recon duty until I can find Adam. We don’t want to draw any more danger to us than what I already attract…”

“Buffy Summers? Attract danger? Nooo,” Riley sassed, helping them begin to clear up as their lunch hour came to a close.

Willow laughed, and Buffy gave her a betrayed look, which made her cut herself off awkwardly and clear her throat.

They were strolling back toward the main building when Riley randomly spoke up again,

“Is it the accent?”

“Huh?” Buffy glanced toward Willow, lost. The redhead shrugged.

“It’s the accent, isn’t it.” Riley sighed, and Willow made a face of realization, and then ducked her head to hide her amused smirk from him. “He does have a particularly nice voice. It’s very soothing. Warm, and rich, like… like smooth Belgian chocolate.”

Riley spoke thoughtfully, not noticing when Buffy and Willow both stopped walking and just stared at him.

“Are _you_ dating Giles?” Willow drawled with a chuckle, and Riley refocused and then blushed, pausing to wait for them to catch up again.

“Why does everybody always think it’s the accent?” Buffy wondered, but then considered. “Smooth chocolate, though, that’s good. I’m gonna use that…” She grinned to herself, and Riley grimaced as he glanced at Willow, holding the door open for both ladies to enter the building before him.

“In… what context?” Riley worried hesitantly, and Willow patted his elbow.

“It’s better not to ask questions when she gets that look on her face.”

**... ... ...**

Buffy called up Giles from Riley’s cell phone, so he was ready for a patrol report by the time they got to his apartment.

“Stripes and polka dots, Giles!” Buffy exclaimed, folding her arms across her chest as she stopped pacing and stood beside his desk. His pen paused over his journal, and he looked up at her. “Major clashing!” She clarified. “When’s the last time you saw a demon working with a vampire?”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” He murmured dryly.

“It was pretty weird. I’ve never seen it before, either.” Riley added, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched Giles curiously. “So, you write down everything that happens on every patrol?”

“Erm, yes.” Giles answered distractedly as he wrote. “Particularly if anything of note occurs.”

“Even though you don’t work for your old bosses anymore?”

“I work for the Slayer,” Giles glanced at Riley over the top of his glasses, almost chiding. “And we never know what may come of use in the future. What might seem trivial now could be of grave importance later on.”

“You’re right,” Riley grinned in amusement at Buffy, “He does get more British.” Buffy grinned too, and Giles frowned.

“So the vampire went toward this demon’s aid?” He asked a bit shortly.

“Yep.” Buffy perched herself on the corner of his desk, ignoring his fussiness.

“How extraordinarily odd…” Giles mused, tugging his glasses off to chew on the earpiece thoughtfully. “As a rule, demons have no empathy for any other species other than their own. In fact, most think of vampires as abominations.” He glanced at them both, and at Riley’s clueless blink he added, “Mixing with human blood, and all.”

He sat in silent thought for another minute, before Buffy voiced her question,

“So what could have brought them together?”

“Not what,” Riley suddenly realized, “Who.”

“Adam.” Giles realized as well, and Buffy grimaced.

“Of course… who better to bring together a bunch of demon types than someone who’s made out of… a bunch of demon types.”

“Perhaps, um, over the next several nights you concentrate your patrol in that same area. If there’s any other peculiar pairings or groupings, you’ll let me know?” Giles requested.

“The specific demons he chooses might tell us what he’s planning,” Buffy followed his line of thinking, and he nodded.

“I can let the squad know as well,” Riley added.

They sat in silence for a moment, nothing more to really be said, and Buffy slowly drew her finger along the curve of letters in Giles’ journal. She was fiddling, more than reading the page, and when Giles glanced up at her, she gave him a tiny smile.

“Well, I suppose if that’s it,” Riley straightened, not noticing their silent communication. “Want me to walk you back to campus?” He offered politely, and Buffy snorted.

“I’m the Slayer, Riley. I don’t need a chaperone.” She reminded him, and he chuckled a bit, embarrassed.

“Right.”

“Anyway, uh, Giles and I have this… thing.” She gave Giles a pointed look when he appeared confused. “A… Watcher thing.”

“Right!” He caught on suddenly, and dropped his glasses to his desk. “That. Quite important. Um, shouldn’t put it off.”

“Exactly.” Buffy grinned, resting her palm flat atop his journal as she looked toward Riley again. “You okay walking back on your own?” She asked a little teasingly, and he scoffed.

“I can hold my own.” He insisted, all macho soldier as he headed for the door. Buffy knew that he could, that’s why she wasn’t concerned, and already thinking about other… Watcher things. “See you in class, then. Have a good night, Mr. Giles.”

“Ah, thank you. You too.” Giles returned, mostly focused on Buffy although he did stand and show Riley out, closing the door behind him and locking it.

He leaned his back against the door, tucking his hands into his pockets as he gazed at Buffy for a minute. She quietly gazed right back, slowly closing his journal.

“Did he?” Giles seemingly randomly asked. “Hold his own?”

Buffy nodded, and crossed her ankles together as she idly swung her legs.

“Sure. He got Dusty and I got Horny.” Giles raised his eyebrow and she stilled. “I mean, the demon. I killed the demon, he killed the vampire. Anyway, he did fine. Enough about Riley - why don’t we get to discussing this… Watcher thing that we shouldn’t put off?”

Giles grinned as he approached the desk, and rested his fingers against her knees. She danced her fingers up the front of his sweater, over his chest and across his shoulders, uncrossing her ankles so he could step closer between her thighs.

“Tell me,” He mused, gently rubbing the pads of his fingers over her leather pants, “What exactly _is_ this… ‘Watcher thing’?”

She met the smouldering desire in his eyes, and slowly grinned.

**... ... ...**

“So, you came back late last night,” Willow sing-songed as they walked together to Psych. “Or should I say, early this morning? I’m _assuming_ you didn’t spend the entire night patrolling with _Riley_.” Buffy rolled her eyes, and Willow laughed, and elbowed her companionably as she teased, “At least you gave yourself enough time to change clothes before class today.”

“That’s never been a problem anyway, ‘cause I’ve got a change of clothes at Giles’.” Buffy huffed, and Willow raised her eyebrow. “What? I’ve always had clothes at Giles’. You know, for training, or slay-emergencies,”

“Should I be looking for a new roommate for next year?” Willow smirked, halfway serious, and Buffy grimaced a little.

“Mom would have a _cow_ if I moved in with Giles, you know that.”

“True…” Willow grew a bit more serious as she wondered, “Does she even know, you know? That the two of you are, you know? ‘Cause, now that _I_ know there’s something to know, I can’t not know, just because I’m afraid somebody will know I know. You know?”

“I -” Buffy blinked, perplexed, and guessed, “No?”

“If she asks me, I so won’t be able to lie to her.” Willow worried.

“She won’t ask you.” Buffy assured her, finally following the conversation. “She hasn’t asked me; why would she ask somebody else?”

“‘Cause she knows I won’t be able to lie to her!”

“Willow, it’s okay,” Buffy smiled gently. “It’s not that I don’t want her to find out - it would just be one awkward conversation I’d rather not have. She probably _assumes_ anyway…”

“You think so?” Willow mused, and Buffy gave her a look. “Right,” Willow laughed, “You two are the _worst_ at- ”

She stopped talking, suddenly, and jerked to a halt in the doorway.

“What?” Buffy gave her a concerned look, and she reached up to grip Buffy’s arm tightly as she stared into the classroom. “Ow, Will,” Buffy chided as she turned her gaze to see what Willow was staring wide-eyed at.

She held her breath as she froze, as well; like maybe they’d become invisible if they didn’t flinch.

“Hurry up and find your seats, class.” Maggie Walsh calmly ordered the room. “We have a lot of catching up to do, as I’m sure your substitutes did not follow my lesson plans to the letter.”

One of the students mentioned being glad she was back, and another asked if she was feeling alright, as she’d been out for quite a few days. Willow tightened her grip on Buffy’s arm even further, and quickly dragged her up to their seats, trying to duck behind some of the other students to hide their entrance.

“Just a small family emergency, I’m fine.” Professor Walsh brushed the comments aside, and then said with hidden amusement, “And if you think sucking up to me is going to improve your grade, then you’ve forgotten who’s class you’re taking.”

Her eyes landed on Buffy’s, for just a second, and they were impossible to read. Then her gaze continued on over the rest of the room as the students all settled, and Buffy swallowed hard, feeling Willow staring at her in concern, but unable to tear her eyes off of Walsh.


	28. Chapter 27 (New Moon Rising, Primeval)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie Walsh is back, Riley is acting suspicious, Oz has returned, Buffy stumbles across mysterious data drives, and Giles is using magic.
> 
> It's not at all just another day in Sunnydale.

“I thought she was in a coma!” Buffy hissed, and Willow shrugged haphazardly, both of them tugging out their notebooks and pencils.

“You knew about it more than me!” She whispered back pointedly.

Buffy had barely known anything, however - she looked to Riley to judge his body language, but was startled to find him absent.

“Riley’s not here,” She told Willow under her breath, quickly darting her gaze toward her notebook, just in case Walsh was looking at her again. She didn’t want the professor to know just how on edge her mere presence put Buffy.

“What’s that mean?” Willow wondered gravely, and Buffy wasn’t sure.

Did he know that Walsh was not only awake, but seemingly in full health, and just didn’t tell Buffy? Or had it been kept a secret from him, as well? Buffy wasn’t sure which of those scenarios was worse. He could be missing for normal reasons… maybe he slept in. Or he could be missing for _other_ reasons - he was being held in the Initiative HQ again, or maybe he hadn’t made it safely back to campus last night.

“Today’s lesson is on prosocial behaviors,” Walsh announced to the class as she flipped the room lights off and started her powerpoint slides. “Let’s discuss altruism; what is altruism, is it a matter of psychology - or philosophical - debate, and why are some people more altruistic than others? Is true altruism even possible for a human to experience? Or is it inherently selfishness, in the end?”

As Walsh’s eyes roved across the room, she lingered briefly on Buffy again. Buffy stared back, refusing to acknowledge the slight near-disgust in the professor’s tone.

Of course she’d find some way to make being altruistic an _insult._

Walsh then changed the slide and continued on with her lecture, pacing slowly across the front of the room.

Willow glanced toward Buffy warily, but they both kept quiet as they tried to focus on the teaching and take notes. The last thing they needed to do was get caught whispering and draw Walsh’s direct attention.

**... ... ...**

_‘Heard from F/W yet?’_

Willow turned her notebook slightly so that Buffy could read the quick scrawl, and Buffy shook her head minutely, replying back on the corner of her own note page,

_‘No. Should be here by now though’_ She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t heard from Faith or Wesley yet. Maybe Giles would today.

Willow’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t add anything else. They didn’t want to push their luck. The professor hadn’t been singling either of them out during the class, but she wasn’t totally ignoring them, either. Buffy kept envisioning herself getting called out for detention or something, forced to hang back after class, and then another demon-hybrid bursting out of the closet - or worse, Adam himself.

Maybe he’d been underground for so long because he was actually back with the Initiative, with Walsh, working together.

By the time class was over, Buffy’s knee was bouncing anxiously and she felt like a riot of adrenalin. As soon as the bell rang, she leapt up with the rest of the class and Willow stood quickly as well, defensively.

“Buffy,” She warned, but Buffy ignored her and stuffed her books into her bag as she pushed her way to the front of the room. She needed to confront Walsh now; she didn’t feel they had time to wait and see what she was up to.

“Professor,”

“Not now.” Walsh interrupted her, focused entirely on packing up her own briefcase, not even deigning to glance in Buffy’s direction. “If you have a question about the material, ask the t.a.”

“The t.a. is _missing_.” Buffy did her best not to growl as she pointed that out, and Walsh’s hands paused for a half-second.

“Perhaps he took a sick day.” She said dismissively, shoving papers into her bag before closing it with a rough snap. “Write me an email. I need to prepare for the next class,”

“You know _perfectly well_ I don’t have a question about class,” Buffy hissed, stepping closer to her, and she jerked her gaze up and glared warningly.

“Watch your tone with me.” Walsh warned her lowly. “Your _interference_ has caused enough problems. I have nothing to say to you.”

“My interference?!” Buffy exclaimed, taking a half a step back so she didn’t come across quite as threatening. “You tried to kill me!” She kept her tone quiet enough that none of the other exiting students picked up on their conversation, but Willow was sidling close enough now that she could tell, and she didn’t look comfortable about it at all.

“That was merely a test -” Walsh began to scoff.

“We both know better than that.” Buffy snapped, then demanded in quick succession, “Where is Riley? What are you guys doing about Adam? What even _is_ Adam? Why in the world did you think building something like that was - ”

“I don’t answer to you,” Walsh laughed incredulously, and shouldered her bag. “I don’t care _who_ you are. You know very little of the world, _Slayer_ ,” She said the title mockingly, “and -”

“I know evil when I see it.” Buffy said pointedly, and Walsh merely blinked at her, still nothing more than annoyed.

“Buffy… we should go,” Willow carefully interrupted, wrapping her fingers around Buffy’s elbow.

“Riley better be okay,” Buffy warned as she let Willow pull her backwards and away from Walsh.

“It’s cute, how you worry for him.” Walsh returned, tonelessly, and then added more snidely, “A boy your own age. I’d call that character growth, wouldn’t you?”

Buffy tensed, knowing she wasn’t just speaking about Giles. How did she know about Angel? She bristled at the intrusion this woman and likely others in the Initiative had on her private life.

“If you knew anything about character, you’d know that Giles -” Buffy started hotly, but Willow gripped her arm tighter and yanked her toward the door.

“ _Buffy_. Pick your battles,” Willow warned under her breath, and Buffy gritted her teeth but swallowed down her words.

“‘Adam’ is on the Initiative.” Buffy announced, the room now empty enough that she could do so from the doorway. “And the Initiative is gonna pay for that.”

Walsh simply blinked again, seemingly unaffected, and glared them out of the room as Willow dragged Buffy away from the conversation.

“She knows about Angel. How does she know about Angel?” Buffy wondered as they walked quickly through the halls, though neither of them had a class for the next couple of hours. They just both felt the desire to put as much distance between themselves and the psych professor as they could.

“I don’t know… did you tell Riley about him?” Willow asked, still trying to keep her worried tone to a minimum; trying to calm Buffy down from fight mode.

“Just basic stuff, when I told him about Faith. I didn’t go into _detail_. And anyway, he wouldn’t be sharing information like that with them, not now. He’s on our side.”

“Well… if they do have him locked up somewhere… this isn’t exactly like before. They could be grilling him for information,” Willow admitted carefully. “And I’m sure they’ve got other sources - demons or vampires or whatever - that know more stuff about Angelus and what had happened during his whole… Angelus episode.”

Buffy sighed, and then groaned heavily.

“I need to tell Giles that she’s back.”

“Call him from the room?” Willow suggested. “I don’t think there’s enough time to get to the shop and back again before our next class, and you really shouldn’t miss any more…”

“Yeah, I know.” Buffy grumbled. “He’s gonna love this.”

Tara was waiting in the hall by their room when they arrived, hoping for some spell studying with Willow, so they quietly talked together on Willow’s bed while Buffy pulled the phone closer to hers and stretched out along her mattress. Some of the conversation might confuse Tara, but Buffy trusted her and anyway, she was into the magic stuff - the real stuff - and thus far she’d taken the whole slayers and vampires and demons thing rather in stride. She was basically a full-fledged Scooby at this point… well, if she wanted to be. Buffy made a mental note to ask her about it later.

_“Hello?”_ Anya’s voice wasn’t exactly pleasant on the other end of the phone, but Buffy could tell she’d been working on it.

“Anya, it’s Buffy,”

_“Oh.”_ Her forcefully polite tone immediately dropped. _“Calling for Giles, I presume? You know, we might not have very many customers right now but this_ _is_ _a working establishment and -”_

_“Anya? Is that Buffy?”_ Giles’ voice interrupted her complaining, and she sighed loudly before Buffy heard the phone passing hands.

_“Yes. Here.”_

_“Why don’t you go, erm, tidy up the register?”_

_“Oh!”_ She sounded much happier about that, and then Giles pressed the phone closer to his ear.

_“Hello, luv. Business or pleasure?”_ He asked cheekily, and Buffy smiled ruefully as she twisted her finger in the phone cord.

“Business, unfortunately,” She admitted, and she could sense him sober a bit. “You wouldn’t have happened to hear from Riley since he left last night, have you?”

_“Riley? No. Why would he come see me?”_

“I don’t know. But he wasn’t in class today, and I’m worried…”

_“I’m sure he had no problems returning to his dorm last night,”_ Giles soothed gently. _“But if you’d like, I can walk the route on my lunch hour and see if I notice any signs of a struggle.”_

“I-” Buffy hadn’t thought to ask that. “You would?” She wondered in surprise.

_“His fawning over you may annoy me, Buffy, but you consider him a friend and you’re worried. Of course I would.”_

“Wow.” Buffy couldn’t help but be a little amazed by that. “You know, if it were him and Angel, I think Angel would just punch him.”

_“Yes, well…”_

“Anyway,” Buffy breezed on, “If you really wouldn’t mind doing that, that’s an awesome idea… but there’s other stuff, too.” She took a breath, and then figured just to tell him straight out, “Maggie Walsh walking among us alive and well.”

_“She- you’ve seen her?”_ His tone was suddenly one of restrained alarm.

“She was in class this morning. Teaching like nothing was out of the ordinary. I tried to confront her after class,”

_“Buffy-”_

“Don’t freak. Willow kept me from doing anything rash.” Buffy rolled her eyes, and then glanced toward Willow, who was looking up from her book with a tiny smile on her face. Buffy sent her a quick appreciative look, and then focused back on Giles. “But she was super tight-lipped. Walsh, I mean, not Willow. She wouldn’t say anything about Adam or about Riley.”

_“You believe the Initiative has him, again?”_

“He _says_ he’s been able to go in and out on his own free will, but we all know they don’t really trust him like they used to. And if Walsh is calling the shots again, she might’ve ordered them to actually restrain him.”

_“I highly suggest not barging into the place on a theory,”_ Giles carefully warned.

“I know. Last time we at least _knew_ they had him. I mean, maybe he really is sick and holed up in his dorm room. I’ll check there, too.” Buffy sighed quietly. “Seeing Walsh this morning really threw me off,” She admitted, “my spidey-senses are all over the place.”

_“Do you suspect they may have performed one of their experiments on her? That she’s no longer fully human?”_

“I… haven’t actually considered that.” Buffy considered it thoughtfully. “I can’t say for sure. It could just be, you know, Slayer self-preservation? She _did_ try to kill me the last time we spoke, after all.”

_“I haven’t forgotten.”_ His voice was all quiet and grumbly, and the danger in his tone should have concerned her but mostly it made her shiver with a brush of arousal.

Tara blurted out a giggle suddenly, and Buffy glanced toward her, surprised to meet her eyes. Then Tara ducked her head over the book she and Willow were sharing, her hair covering her face.

Buffy shifted a little on her bed, feeling a little embarrassed and not sure why. It wasn’t like Tara could _read minds_ … could she?

_“Buffy? Are you still there?”_

Oops, she’d gotten distracted on the subject of mind reading… more specifically, reading _Giles’_ mind. She wondered what sorts of things she’d ‘hear’ from him now…

“Huh?” Buffy blinked her mind clear and licked her lips. “Yeah.”

_“I need to get back to work. We’ll talk again later? With any updates?”_

“Or about anything else,” Buffy replied lightly, and he let out a breath of air that was an amused noise but not quite a laugh. “Call you later, Watcher-mine.”

_“Do try to have an uneventful rest of the day,”_ He gently teased her, and she blew a raspberry into the phone before hanging it up.

“What did Giles say?” Willow asked.

“Riley and I had stopped by his place last night after our patrol. He’s gonna check the route there to here, and I’m gonna see if there’s anything suspicious in the dorm room.”

“You don’t really think he’s just sick, do you,” Willow figured, and Buffy thinned her lips and shook her head.

She glanced toward Tara, who was still partially hiding behind her hair as she stared down at the book between herself and Willow.

“Were you reading my mind, earlier?” Buffy wondered, and Willow raised her eyebrows as she glanced between them.

“No!” Tara promised, and then half-smiled a bit wistfully. “Whenever you talk to him, you get all glowy.”

“Huh?”

Willow giggled.

“You’re good at this stuff,” Tara tried to explain, gesturing with her hands, and Buffy blinked as she tried to figure it out.

“Swimming?”

“Demon fighting.” She clarified, lowering her arms. “I’m obviously not,”

“You’re good at other things!” Willow insisted supportively, and Tara gave her another one of those half-smiles, appreciative this time.

“You’re made for it, you know?” Tara murmured to Buffy, like she was amazed. “You’re so settled. In the zone.”

“I am?” Buffy asked in surprise. She didn’t always feel that way.

_It’s not a job. It’s who we are._ Kendra’s voice whispered in her head.

“Your aura is,” Tara explained as if that cleared everything up, and Willow nodded rigorously as Buffy stared blankly at both of them.

“Oh yeah! Tara can read people’s _auras_ , isn’t that awesome?” Willow exclaimed, making Tara blush.

“What is that, exactly?” Buffy asked hesitantly.

“Like… the essence of who you are,” Tara explained. “A… field of energy, sort of, that surrounds you. Everybody has one.”

“I have a forcefield?” Buffy wondered in amazement, holding her hand out in front of her as if she expected to suddenly see one.

“Not quite that,” Tara furrowed her brow. “It’s hard to explain. But they can be… luminous. And with training and the right spells, anybody could see them.”

“Some people are born naturally being able to see them,” Willow added in, nudging Tara. “Like Tara.”

“That’s nifty,” Buffy mused, and Tara blushed again, shy.

“Sometimes you seem a bit… out of place,” Tara said carefully, explaining herself without being judgemental about what she saw. “But when you guys are making your plans, when you’re patrolling, when you’re talking to Giles… you’re settled.”

“I don’t always _feel_ settled.” Buffy mumbled, thinking about how sometimes Giles has her feeling very _un_ settled.

“Perhaps not in your mind… but your aura is.” Tara nodded gently and, somehow, that made Buffy feel more at peace about being the Slayer than she expected.

She hadn’t thought that she was still all that bothered about it. After taking care of the mayor; working with the gang and even the rest of the school to defeat a massive evil demon, she thought she’d settled into her role as the Slayer. There were still moments of frustration, of course - didn’t everybody sometimes hate what they were doing, even if deep down it was a passion of theirs? There was so much about slaying that was unpleasant, after all. Dirt-filled shower drains, dusty shoes, gooey ruined clothes…

There were things she had to admit were nice, though. Successfully taking out a few vampires while out on patrol… being able to save somebody, mid-attack, and have that immediate gratification that yeah - she _was_ doing some good in the world, making a change… mastering a new weapon or move and have Giles looking at her with that particular little sparkle in his eyes…

“You’re doing it again, huh?” Tara grinned, and Buffy refocused.

“Huh?”

“You go all purpley when you’re thinking - I’m pretty sure - of Giles.”

“Purple?!” Buffy exclaimed, touching her face, and Willow snickered.

“Your aura,” Tara reminded, and Buffy avoided their eyes as she fiddled with a string on her bedspread.

Purple. Of _course_ it had to be purple. That stupid sweater.

She found herself grinning fondly, and quickly tried to hide it. She hopped to her feet and grabbed up her coat.

“I’m gonna go check Riley’s dorm for clues. Maybe have a chat with Graham if I see him.”

If Tara was born with this ability, it might be something she can’t exactly control, but Buffy still wasn’t sure how she felt about someone being able to see something that felt so personal. It was bad enough that she sometimes had problems controlling her face when it came to Giles - now she had to worry about her aura, too?

Was that even something that _was_ controllable? Maybe it was a topic she could talk to Willow about… later. She didn’t want to make Tara feel bad; she liked Tara.

**... ... ...**

Riley’s room was as neat as always, but she happened to notice the jacket he’d worn the night before, resting draped over the back of a chair. So that meant he’d made it back to campus… but honestly she couldn’t even tell if his bed had been slept in, or not.

He was almost _too_ neat. She scowled at the perfectly made bed.

“Bet I could bounce a quarter off of that.”

She glanced toward the floor length mirror, but ultimately didn’t bother even nearing it. There was no way her credentials worked anymore. Stepping toward the door, she took one last look around the room, particularly the corners near the ceiling. She had no doubt there was a camera in here somewhere… she made sure to keep her expression serious, but calm.

She _knew_ they were up to no good. And she wasn’t afraid of them.

Buffy hesitated at the floppy disks she saw sitting out on Riley’s desk. She’d never seen him using any before, and as far as she knew he didn’t even have a laptop of his own. Though she wasn’t entirely sure why she was suspicious, she grabbed them anyway. If they ended up just being homework, then no harm no foul.

She returned to her dorm without incident, and hung out with Willow and Tara until their next class. Willow promised to take a look at the disks later, and the rest of the day passed in unnerving banality - tests were returned, chapters were read, homework was assigned.

As her fellow students milled about the halls, complaining of their workload, of an upcoming sports game, and of annoyingly difficult professors, Buffy used one of the pay-phones to call up the rest of the gang and organize a meetup at Giles’s. For a moment, time seemed to slow around her as she listened to bits and pieces of conversations that she rarely had herself.

She didn’t even know which sports teams were playing this time of the year. What sports did UCS even offer?

Then she thought of L.A., her job in the diner, her little apartment, and the demons in the city… Giles’ faith in her ability to adapt, in her ability to be the Slayer, and _more_.

Her schoolmates might not know of the life-and-death stress that _she_ faced while they were tucked away in their books or their parties, but that didn’t make her an outsider. It made her… more. _They_ were the outsiders. And they needed protection because of that.

Meeting Willow’s eyes as she hung up the phone, she smiled a little. She wasn’t alone, in doing the protecting. _‘This burden is not yours, alone.’_ Giles had once told her. Sometimes she still needed that reminder every now and then.

“Are we heading over now?” Willow asked when Buffy rejoined her.

“Can we stop by the dorm first? I wanna grab that book from Lit so I can hash out some of that paper while we’re waiting on Xander.”

It was definitely easier to double-task, remembering that she wasn’t alone in it all.

**... ... ...**

Certain people, however, left Buffy wondering sometimes if they _had_ to be a part.

“You should stop calling during the day. It interrupts time Giles could be spending with customers. And he doesn’t even like the phone, which means _I_ have to be the one to answer it all the time, so you’re interrupting _my_ time selling things and taking people’s money, too!”

Anya was on a roll about Buffy calling the Magic Box, to the point that everyone was groaning and rubbing their eyes and foreheads tiredly. Willow was practically trying to hide inside of her computer; sitting slouched over it at Giles’ desk as she checked the floppy disks Buffy had found.

“Anya!” Giles was finally fed up. “ _I_ am _your_ boss, you’ll do well to remember. My duties as a Watcher come first to managing the shop - a shop of which isn’t exactly teeming with customers,”

“Well then maybe _I_ should manage-”

“Bloody well not!” Giles interrupted her incredulously.

The front door opened, and his next comment didn’t come as he realized everyone was staring at the doorway behind him.

Buffy blinked, just as speechless as everybody else.

“Hey.” Oz greeted them, after an awkward beat of silence.

“Oz?” Willow slid to her feet, standing from the chair but not moving any closer toward the door.

He was like an apparition, at least to Buffy, and the only reason why she didn’t totally doubt his presence was because everyone else clearly saw him as well.

“When did you get back?” Willow wondered, sounding dazed.

“Pretty much now.” Oz admitted, hesitantly taking a step inside of the apartment.

No one said anything else, and no one moved, either. Eventually, unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, Xander jumped forward to greet him.

“Oz! Hate to sound grandma, but you don’t call, you don’t write…” He grasped Oz’s hand warmly, which Oz returned with a careful smile.

“Yeah… sorry.” He looked at Xander as he said that, notably avoiding Willow’s eyes.

“So are you _here_ , here, or just passing through?” Buffy questioned stoically, wanting to hug him but firmly waiting for Willow’s response. He’d really hurt her, and as best friend Buffy would stand by her _first_ , regardless of her own fondness for Oz.

  
“Um, let’s not bombard the poor chap with uh, questions right off,” Giles suggested, hearing the edge in Buffy’s voice. “Uh, can I get you something? Tea, perhaps?” He’d removed his glasses and was halfway toward the kitchen when Oz replied,

“I’ll pass, thanks.” He gave Giles a thankful look, took a breath, and then stepped into the house to approach Willow and speak to her directly. He made a curious face, then, and looked at Buffy again. “You smell like Giles.”

There was a beat of silence, again, after that comment, until Xander snorted. Buffy felt her cheeks warm with a blush, and Anya smirked.

“And he smells like you.” Oz commented just as calmly, focusing on Giles once more. Giles was blushing profusely by this point, and even Willow looked momentarily amused. Oz nodded sagely at this. “Cool.” He decided, then he turned to Willow again and told her, “Look… I’m going to Devon’s to see if he has a place I can crash, but I was hoping that we could talk. Later? Tonight?”

“I guess so.” Willow still sounded fairly bewildered, her amusement at Buffy’s and Giles’ embarrassment now waning.

“I’ll come by your place?” He asked softly.

“Okay.” She murmured, and he nodded, looking pleased, but his hands were tucked into his pockets and his weight was leaning backwards on his heels. He was already ready to bolt, in a place and from people he’d once been so comfortable around… it unsettled Buffy.

“It’s great to see you guys again. Really.” He sounded earnest, and he squinted approvingly between Buffy and Giles for a second, but then he ducked his head and left the apartment just as quickly as he’d arrived.

Everyone stayed where they were, unsure, and Anya slouched a bit in her seat.

“Everyone’s uncomfortable now.” She grumbled, and Xander patted her shoulder as Buffy moved closer to Willow.

“You okay?” She asked lowly, knowing that she likely wasn’t, and sure enough Willow looked a bit lost as she met Buffy’s eyes. Buffy glanced toward Giles, who still hadn’t put his glasses back on and was beginning to look a bit panicky himself. _‘Tea’_ , she mouthed at him, and he blinked and nodded, quickly disappearing into the kitchen. Girl drama wasn’t his forte, and that was fine. Tea was, and tea could be comforting. She looked back to Willow, and gently took her hands. “Wanna sit?”

“Sitting is good.” Willow mumbled, and Buffy and Tara led her toward the couch.

“We’ll um… head out,” Xander spoke up hesitantly after some rather obvious nudging from Anya. “Keep our eyes open for any weird demon activity?”

“Thanks, Xan. Be careful.” Buffy replied as she sat next to Willow on the couch. Tara hovered, however, looking unsure.

“I think I’ll go, too. I’ve got some studying that I should do.” Tara gave them a gentle smile before heading toward the door after the other two.

“If you need me to put in a word, just let me know!” Anya called out from the doorway, trying to be helpful. “I might not be a vengeance demon myself anymore, but I know people. Well, demons. I know demons.”

“Uh, thanks Anya,” Willow grimaced a little, but Anya looked satisfied before stepping out of sight. Xander gave them an apologetic look before closing the door behind himself and Tara.

The silence in the apartment, aside from the soft clinking of dishes from the kitchen, was stifling.

“So…” Buffy started awkwardly. “That was left field, huh?”

Willow chuckled shakily, and then heaved a heavy sigh and slouched against the back cushion.

“Oz. Here!”

“Yeah.” Buffy wasn’t sure what to say. A once familiar face that was now so unexpected… and his mannerisms had been so… off. With all the mess regarding the Initiative and Adam lately, Buffy admittedly hadn’t been thinking about Oz much. She certainly hadn’t imagined him suddenly showing up anytime soon.

“I should be happy, right?” Willow questioned. “I should have hugged him?”

“There is no ‘should’,” Buffy shook her head gently, kicking her shoes off before curling her legs up to sit criss-cross, facing her. “You feel how you feel, Will. This is all very… sudden.” That was one way to put it. “There’s no fault in being shocked.”

“I’m not sure what I feel.” Willow told her, staring at the coffee table.

“That’s okay, too.” Buffy promised her, and looked up gratefully when Giles hesitantly entered the room, tea tray in hand. There were cookies, too: Willow’s favorites, and although she’d turned down his offer of pretzels earlier in the Scooby meeting, she smiled a little bit as she took a cookie along with one of the tea cups.

Giles set the tray on the table, then sat on the chair across from them as he prepared a mug for himself.

“How do you feel?” Willow asked after a while, and Buffy furrowed her brow as she lowered her mug - now half empty - from her mouth.

“What I feel doesn’t matter,”

“Course it does.” Willow returned simply. “He didn’t just leave me behind. He left the Scooby Gang, too.”

“…Angry, I guess.” Buffy admitted, glancing again toward Giles. He made an understanding expression behind his mug, and she continued to Willow, “He hurt you. I still love him, but it’s hard not to be mad at him for hurting you.”

“That’s okay.” Willow nodded, and then smiled a little ruefully. “I might need you to be angry with him, ‘cause honestly… I don’t think I can be.”

“Well, Anya did offer…” Buffy slowly teased, and Willow shook her head quickly.

“Oh, no, not _that_ angry!” She protested, and then they both giggled a little. “Though it’s kinda nice, hypothetically, picturing worms coming out of his eyeballs.”

“Snails from his nose?” Buffy continued to tease.

“Hot sauce in his underwear!” Willow added, in a lighter mood now, and Giles grimaced as he shifted in his seat.

“This is still hypothetical, yes?” He checked, and both girls shared a smirk with one another before looking at him. Willow pointed to him, mock-threateningly.

“So you’d better not break Buffy’s heart, Mister!” She warned. “I know where you live.” He drew a cross over his heart with his finger, and Willow nodded with a satisfied air, leaning back into the couch again with her cup of tea against her chest, appearing much more relaxed than she had been. Then, she tilted her head to the side as she looked between Giles and Buffy. “When he said he could _smell_ you on each other-”

“Um, h-how are those disks coming along?” Giles stammered in quickly, changing the topic with a flustered expression, and Willow gave him a briefly apologetic one as she answered,

“From Riley’s? They’re definitely not just schoolwork… whatever is on them is encrypted, and _seriously_ so.” When her brow furrowed, Buffy recognized it as her confused research-mode expression.

“You believe they’re from the Initiative?” Giles questioned, and she shrugged and nodded.

“It can’t be a coincidence.”

“They were sitting right out in the open, on his desk.” Buffy frowned as well. “Riley’s never been that lax about security before.”

“What are you thinking?” Giles asked, and Buffy slowly shook her head.

“I’m not sure, yet. But I feel it in my gut… something’s not right.”

“Maggie Walsh’s presence certainly doesn’t bode well, either.” Giles pointed out, his eyes narrowed as he took a drink from his tea cup. The others silently agreed, and drank their tea as well.

**... ... ...**

Buffy was nearing the end of an annoyingly quiet - and alone - patrol, when Riley appeared out of nowhere.

“Where were you today?” Buffy demanded. “There was no sign of you and with Walsh suddenly walking around campus like another day in Pleasantville, I was worried,”

“I’m sorry - the guys pulled me out of bed fairly early this morning. I’ve been in HQ all day, I couldn’t get any free time.” Riley apologized, and there was something odd about his sincerity, though she couldn’t quite place a finger on it.

“But they’ve let you out to patrol?” She noted pointedly.

“Well, it’s been all hands on deck, you know. We’ve been rounding up demons left and right.” He explained, and she frowned.

“No, I don’t know,” She returned, “It’s been quiet aside from our vampire-demon duo last night. How many of you are actually out patrolling at one time? You’re taking all my kills!” She whined a bit, and Riley raised an eyebrow, and then pointed over her shoulder.

“Well, here’s one for you, if you want it.”

She whirled around just as a demon growled and lunged at her; she ducked and skirted around it, planting the heel of her boot against its back and sending it toward Riley. Using its momentum against it, he thrust his fist into its stomach and then kneed it in the head when it doubled over.

Buffy leapt onto its back to wrap her arm around its throat, choking it out, and suddenly a stake came out of nowhere, embedding into its chest. It immediately collapsed, unfortunately onto its back with Buffy caught underneath it, and Riley hurried forward to push it off of her.

She groaned in mild annoyance as she looked over to where the stake had originated, spying a familiar ruffle of red hair glinting in the moonlight.

“Oz? What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting up with Willow.” Buffy asked as she accepted a hand up and then brushed dirt off of her coat. Oz peered at the demon for a moment before confirming that it was out for the count, and then focused on her and Riley.

“I… we’ve helped each other before, and I was hoping, well, since it seems you and Giles have cleared things up since I've been gone, maybe you could help me again.”

“You left her _devastated_ , Oz.” Buffy told him, folding her arms, and he nodded, lowering his head until his chin tucked against his chest.

“It wasn’t great for me, either.”

“Then why didn’t you call? Write? _Something_?” Buffy knew her tone was sharpening in her agitation, but she couldn’t help it. Oz _adored_ Willow - that had always been obvious - so the fact that he’d hurt her so badly was difficult to understand.

Then again… she and Giles adored one another too, and they’d also still managed to hurt one another.

Maybe Oz had a point. Maybe she could help.

“I’ll, um, just call this in for the cleanup guys,” Riley jerked his thumb in a direction away from them, awkwardly backing away before tugging his cell out of his pocket and turning his back to them.

“For a while, I… couldn’t.” Oz eventually admitted. “Writing ‘I’m sorry’ on a piece of paper didn’t seem like enough.”

“It’s a start.” Buffy returned. “I get having to find yourself. I ran off to L.A. for a few months, remember? But when I left, I didn’t leave my girlfriend behind.”

“You left Giles.” Oz pointed out gently, and Buffy paused, and winced.

“We weren’t… it wasn’t like that, then.”

“It was a little like that.” Oz argued calmly. “He’s your Watcher, Buffy. You heard it from us before; he was obsessed with finding you that summer.”

“Well, knowing that about Giles-” Buffy quickly turned it back around on him again, not really wanting to think about how Giles might’ve been those months she’d been incommunicado. “Why would you put Willow through that too? She was totally dealing with you being a werewolf,”

“Woah - back up there.” Riley blurted out, stepping closer to them, suddenly very tense. “Oz is a _werewolf?_ And Willow was _dating him_?” He glanced between the two of them incredulously, then his gaze stayed hooked on Oz.

“Yes,” Buffy answered slowly, watching him carefully. His shoulders were tight, and maybe it was subconscious but his hand was hovering near his taser gun on his hip.

Oz hadn’t budged, but Buffy knew he was just as tense, watching Riley just as closely.

“You’re kidding me!” Riley glanced toward Buffy briefly. “I didn’t think Willow was that kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl?” Buffy bristled, and Oz’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Into dangerous guys. She seemed smarter than that.” Riley’s tone was judgemental, veering toward snobbish, which Buffy didn’t understand.

“ _Oz_ is not _dangerous_.” She defended, shifting to the side slightly and touching Oz’s coat for a moment, her eyes never leaving Riley. “Something happened to him that wasn’t his fault.” She paused, surprised by this tone from him. “God, I didn’t know you were such a bigot.”

“Woah! Hey, how did we get to bigot?” Riley protested lightly, his hands relaxing by his sides. “I’m just saying it’s a little weird to date someone who tries to _eat_ you once a month.”

“Yeah well love isn’t logical Riley.” She frowned up at him, this conversation annoyingly familiar. She’d be damned if anybody called her best friend, the smartest person she knew (aside from Giles), stupid. “It’s not like you can be Mr. Joe Sensible about it all the time. God knows I haven’t been.”

“I’m not talking about you,” Riley softened his tone, reaching up to touch her arm comfortingly as she had Oz, but she shifted out of his reach.

“How about we not talk about this at all?” She nodded her head toward the unconscious, likely dead, demon. “Why don’t you wait here for _your boys_ to help deal with that?” She took Oz’s elbow more securely and urged him to walk away with her.

“Buffy… we- we need to talk about Professor Walsh, about…” Riley trailed off, but she suddenly didn’t have the patience for him right now. As begrudgingly accepting (and oddly, lately, almost protective?) of Giles as he’d been, she could only imagine how he’d react hearing the truth about her previous boyfriend… the first love of her life.

And yeah okay, she knew well enough that her relationship with Angel wasn’t entirely _healthy_ , but like she’d said, the heart didn’t exactly ride high on the IQ scale all the time.

Anyway, Oz and Willow _did_ need help too, and honestly that seemed the more likely situation that she could work on right now. As much as she wanted to, there wasn’t really anything she could do about Walsh… not yet.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Riley.” She glanced back to give him a look - she wasn’t making a suggestion. She needed to ask him about those encrypted files, too, but not out here and not with him decked out in his gear. She didn’t trust that the Initiative wasn’t listening in.

Oz was silent throughout all of this, which didn’t necessarily surprise her… and they walked together in continued silence for a few minutes before he eventually broke it.

“Who’s the goon?”

“Riley,” Buffy sighed tiredly. “He’s the psych t.a. He’s also in the Initiative which is a whole other bag of fun nestled right beneath our school.” She paused, and then grumbled under her breath, “What is it with evil living underneath my schools?”

“The Initiative?” Oz raised his eyebrow.

“We can talk about that later. I think you need to go see Willow now,” Buffy suggested seriously.

“I don’t know-”

“Talk to her, Oz. I know you’re a man of few words but I also know you’ve always talked to Willow more than you have any of us. She _gets_ you, and if you’re honest with her then she’ll get this, too, I’m sure of it.” Oz still seemed hesitant, but nodded slowly. “It’s like you told me… you might just have to give her time,” Buffy told him gently. His eyes changed with recognition, and he nodded again. “Let her get used to you being around, present, again… and then maybe baby steps into the relationship stuff?”

“Do you think she…” He trailed off, and looked away, but Buffy knew what he was wondering, and she tucked her hand into his companionably.

“She’s never stopped loving you, Oz, that I do know.”

His shoulders relaxed a bit at that, and he nodded once more, squeezing her hand in thanks. Buffy relaxed as well, looking up as the heavy cloud cover finally began to shift, and then she gasped and accidentally grabbed Oz’s hand too hard.

“Oz!”

“Yeah.” He replied, and when Buffy pulled away from him to face him, he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“But-!”

“Yep.” He nodded once.

Buffy stared at him wide-eyed for a good minute, standing there in the full moonlight, as boy as boy could be, and then she grinned lopsidedly in amazement.

“Cool.”

**... ... ...**

Buffy couldn’t help it, she had to hang around just for a bit… just to make sure the talk was headed in a good direction. Plus, she’d wanted to see Willow’s reaction to the moon thing - and happily, it was totally cute.

“I know what I put you through, and I’m not gonna push.” Oz promised Willow, holding her hands tenderly within his own after they stopped hugging. “But I am… a different person than when I left. And I can be what you need now.” His voice dropped into such a quiet whisper that Buffy almost couldn’t hear him finish, “That’s what I want. That’s why I’m here.”

Willow was silent for a long minute.

“Oz… you were always that person.” She told him painfully. Then they were hugging one another again, tightly, and while Buffy knew a lot more talking needed to happen - was going to happen - she felt comfortable enough to leave them be.

Wanting to give them the dorm as a private place to talk, she headed back to Giles’, taking her time as exhaustion settled on her shoulders. She really should go find Riley again, and ask him what - if anything - he knew about Walsh and her plans now that she was conscious and seemingly in good health.

The lure of Giles was stronger, though, and Buffy was grateful not to run into any vampires or militia men on her way to his apartment.

His door was unlocked and she walked right in, closing and locking it behind her. He glanced up from his desk and raised his eyebrow in question as she shrugged off her coat, but she didn’t say anything as she dropped it carelessly by the coat rack.

Giles sat back in his chair as she approached the desk, and she moved quickly before he could stand. Gently closing the text he’d been researching and sliding it to the side, she hoisted herself lithely onto the desktop in its place, stretching her leg up (easily; yay gymnastics and Tai Chi) over him to straddle her knees where he sat.

“Buffy?” He wondered, watching as she then stretched out one foot beside him, pulling off her boot and letting it thump to the floor, before doing the same on the other side.

Once barefoot, she slowly and pointedly placed her feet on the arms of his chair. His chest, now, was visibly rising and falling more quickly than it had been before, his breath picking up at her actions. Then she gently took his hands and placed them against the clasp of her leather pants, shifting his fingers to pop the button open before sliding her own hands away to place them on the desktop either side of her.

He watched her eyes as he slowly drew the zip down next, and when she quietly sighed in appreciation, he stretched out his fingers and slid his palms agonizingly slowly down her thighs, over the curve of her knees, underneath her calves… appreciating the soft leather material.

He took a moment to stroke her calf with one hand while the other removed his glasses and set them aside, atop his forgotten book. Buffy had already put herself in quite the state, daydreaming about his mouth during her entire walk over, and she leaned a little more of her weight back onto her hands, arching her back a little and widening her knees. She was already wet and aching for him, and knew that he could likely smell her arousal.

He closed his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against her knee, then blindly felt his way back up to her waist and began to pull down her pants. Off one leg, and then the other, he dropped the leather to the floor as he pushed his seat back a little, giving himself room to lean forward and bury his face between her thighs.

He moaned against her damp panties and she moaned too, lifting a hand to slide her fingers through his hair. He surged upward then, kissing her so completely and entirely that she imagined they could fade together, until no one would know where he ended or she began. He gently pushed her back down to his desk as they kissed, one thumb caressing her panties, his other hand resting against her chest, warm above the thump of her heart.

Then he kissed down her chest, brief but heavy kisses over her shirt until he reached the hem which had rucked up a bit, revealing a strip of skin above the waistline of her underwear. Bare skin beneath his mouth now, he lingered on a spot beside her bellybutton, sucking hard with teeth and tongue until she was squirming beneath him.

She was going to have a hickey there for at least a few hours.

“Giiiles,” She moaned, arching against his desk, gripping at the arms of his chair with her toes, trying to remember not to crush him with her thighs.

_‘Oh, to have these wrapped around me…’_ She remembered his words - his thoughts - and whimpered, tightening her knees a little anyway, pressing into his shoulders. He hummed a noise that might’ve meant to be soothing, but came out about as wanton as her own moan had, and he gripped the seam of her panties and ripped them apart, continuing to kiss down her pelvis without needing to pull away now.

“Giles!” She complained at the ripping sound but didn’t even bother lifting her head or opening her eyes - he was kissing her intimately now, a single open-mouthed, hard kiss that pulled her into a moment of weightlessness, of _elsewhereness_ that left her without care for anything outside of the here and now.

This was exactly what she’d wanted; Giles and her and _only_ Giles and her, and she let herself bask in it, pushing her fingers through her hair and smiling softly in delight.

He lapped at her with relish, taking his time, taking far more time than Buffy had initially wanted - but it wasn’t long before she was keening at him not to stop, never to stop, writhing her hips up against his face without an ounce of reserve. He kept an arm across her hips, controlling her a bit so she didn’t suffocate him, but otherwise moved with her, restraining himself from firming his tongue or his lips like she wanted.

He curled his tongue through her folds with thorough precision, until stars were dancing behind her eyes and she hadn’t even come yet. She whined lowly, straining upward, and finally, finally, he nibbled his lips and suckled hard on her clit, curling two of his fingers inside of her to continue the work his tongue had been doing previously.

Buffy cried out, spiraling quickly into abandon, arching up toward him and gripping onto his hair when she finally came, her muscles contracting hard in the power of it. He continued to mouth her noisily, his own fingers bruise-tight around her hip, drinking her up like he couldn’t possibly get enough of her.

She didn’t realize that she’d blacked out a little until she was coming to again and finding herself still sprawled across his desk, her legs resting bonelessly against the arms of his chair and Giles himself with his cheek planted atop her thigh.

He was breathing pretty heavily too, and she softly petted his hair, which was a mess in all directions.

“G-give me a minute,” Buffy panted, “and we can keep going,”

“I would like that,” His smile was quite dopey as he looked up at her without lifting his head, “but I’m afraid I’ll need a few more minutes, likely.”

“Really?” Buffy lifted her head a little, trying to see more of him. From what she could tell, he was still totally dressed. Looking back at his face, he was flushed, but she wasn’t sure whether that was embarrassment or because he was still a bit breathless. “Did you touch yourself at all?” She wondered curiously, lifting up onto one elbow and sliding her other hand down to rub her thumb against his cheek. His lips and chin were glistening from her and she mused that it was one of the most beautiful ways he’s ever looked.

He shook his head in the negative, and she smiled in wonder.

“Speaking of, I- I should toss these in the laundry,” He slowly sat up, clearly loath to stop touching her, and guided her legs to hang loosely beside the chair so he could push it back far enough to stand. Indeed, there was a bit of a bulge and a wet spot in his corduroys, and Buffy smirked indulgently.

“And mine into the garbage?” She noted, remembering, looking up at him in mild annoyance. “ _Ripper_.”

He giggled, blushing more deeply for a moment, before brushing the back of his hand over his mouth and chin. He hesitated for just a beat before slowly bringing his knuckles back up, and opening his mouth over them, cleaning her wetness from his own skin.

“Good God,” She moaned, thumping back down onto the desk, and he giggled again, the sound disappearing into the back of the apartment. She let herself breathe there for a moment, before sitting up fully and carefully sliding to her feet. She gripped the edge of the desk for a moment as her legs felt like jelly, but quickly pulled herself together before Giles could come back out and see.

She didn’t want to deal with him being _that_ cocky for the rest of the night.

She picked up her pants and then began pulling off the rest of her clothes as she made her way upstairs to the bed, intending to settle in and wait for him to join her. She considered telling Giles about Oz’s control under the moon, his success with the wolf, but then she figured that was Oz’s story to show off.

Then she found one of Giles’ ties hanging from a knob of his armoire, and grinned to herself as she pulled it over her head, smoothing the fabric between her breasts as she lounged against the pillows. She shifted a few times, unsure of how to lay exactly, and when she lifted her head from toying with the knot again, she found him standing by the foot of the bed, staring at her.

He was naked now, too, and more than half hard.

“Heya, Watcher-mine.” Buffy drawled, pushing down her embarrassment at getting caught in her nervousness, and slid the tie between her fingers. His smile was boyish as he pounced, bouncing onto the bed next to her and drawing her into his arms as she laughed.

**— — —**

Giles’ alarm roused Buffy from sleep somewhat suddenly, sending her stumbling from the bed still only half-conscious. Giles sat up quickly as well, blinking and confused by her adrenalin-fueled movement, and leaned on his hands as he stared at her.

“Uh… oh.” She smiled awkwardly as she tapped the button on the alarm to turn it off, and relaxed her shoulders. “I uh, must’ve been dreaming or something. Thought somebody was coming in…”

“I was having the most wonderful dream that I was, actually,” Giles grumbled, sleep-tousled and bleary-eyed. Buffy widened her eyes at him, feeling her skin flush.

  
“Giles!”

“What?” He rubbed his eyes, and then she remembered that she was standing there stark naked and dove for the sheet, grabbing it and tugging it over her. “Hey,” He protested, suddenly naked himself, and lowered his hand from his face to pout at her. “Come back to bed,” He reached for a part of the sheet to pull her back onto the mattress, but she shook her head as she resisted.

“I need to get ready for class. I can’t miss anymore, remember?” She raised her eyebrow coyly at him, and turned to the dresser to dig through her drawer for a change of clothes.

“Oh, _now_ you bloody listen to me about school,” Giles fussed, and she heard him flop back onto the mattress in a huff.

She bit her lip as she grinned, doing her best not to giggle aloud, and pretending that she hadn’t noticed his morning wood.

She really, _really_ needed to get dressed. Even if today’s classes didn’t start until eleven, Giles had the shop to open. She surreptitiously glanced at the clock, noting the hour… no wonder she’d been shocked out of sleep - she rarely ever got up at six a.m. if she could help it. Well, that, and she wasn’t really used to the sound of Giles’ alarm.

She looked over her shoulder at him when she didn’t hear any further movement, and found him still sprawled there, one arm thrown across his eyes and a pouty frown still on his lips. She let herself grin wider, suddenly giddy as she watched him breathe, and she returned his favor from last night and pounced with no warning.

He yelped in surprise when she landed on her hands and knees over him, but she only laughed and nuzzled his tummy and chest as she kissed his skin. He started giggling soon enough, squirming beneath her, but when he wrapped his arms around her and tried to turn them over, she shrugged his hands off and held them down against the mattress.

She pressed her weight onto him and he stared up at her with wide eyes, dark with arousal, as his laughter subsided. She wrapped her fingers around his biceps as she shifted her hips over him until his length was sheathed inside her, and he groaned and tilted his head back against the pillows. She slid her hands up then to stroke her fingers along his neck, beginning to ride him slowly, wanting to marvel in every inch of him.

“I like hearing you laugh like that,” She murmured, only a little out of breath herself. He felt _achingly_ good inside of her like this, but she wanted to try and focus on him for a few more moments before her own pleasure overwhelmed her. He opened his eyes again, watching her as if he’d never seen her before, his hands now free to slide along her waist and her breasts appreciatively.

“I like laughing with you,” He replied breathlessly, pushing up beneath her to match her rhythm. She closed her eyes and bit her lip again, trying to tamp down the quickly building crest inside of her, wanting to draw this out a little longer even if they really didn’t have all morning to stay in bed together. “Buffy,” He pressed his thumb against her lip, getting her to release it.

“God, I never seem to last long this way,” She admitted, curling her hips down against him a little harder, and he cupped her breasts and rubbed her nipples encouragingly.

“Then don’t,” His tone was almost challenging, and she groaned and lay down over him more completely, planting her mouth against the curve of his neck just above his collarbone.

**... ... ...**

For the first time in at least a couple of weeks, Buffy had a bounce in her step that she didn’t feel guilty about. The weather was still a bit cool, but the sun was out and shining, her fellow students around her seemed particularly carefree today, and one of her closest friends was back in town hopefully to stay. Not to mention she’d had a _very_ nice morning that if she actually kept thinking about it too much, she was gonna get uncomfortably aroused in public.

She quietly cleared her throat and shouldered her bag, sharing a passing smile with someone she didn’t know when they caught each other’s eye for a second. Setting aside her thoughts of Giles, she hoped again that Willow and Oz really had - or were in the process of - making up, because she really wanted to take them to the Espresso Pump and talk about where he’d been for the past few months.

He’d traveled the _world_ after all, and the thought of doing so herself was about as out there as traveling to the moon.

She rounded the corner of bushes along the sidewalk and almost bumped into Giles, not processing at first that he was actually there.

“Giles! What are you doing here?” It was a pleasant surprise to have him on campus, but she’d just seen him a little over an hour ago.

“I know you, um, had a late night… studying, so I thought you might like this.” He offered shyly, holding up a travel cup of coffee.

“A cappuccino?” Buffy squealed softly, accepting it with both hands. He nodded as she took a sip, and then she beamed at him. “You’re _the best_.” She cooed, and he smiled, pleased that she liked it.

It was like he’d somehow known she’d been thinking about caffeine at that very moment. After they’d been an hour or so late getting out of bed, she hadn’t had time for a cup of tea or anything before needing to head back to the dorms to repack her bag with the correct notebooks for the day.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he glanced around them. He actually didn’t look quite so out of place here, in his tweed three-piece suit, as he used to at the high school. The number of people began to thin, however, as students and professors headed to their classes, and Buffy sighed in disappointment before telling him,

“I need to get to my class… but maybe tonight you can help me… study, some more?” She grinned coyly, and his eyes brightened as he smiled a little.

“Are we referencing patrol, here, or…?” He teased lightly.

“Whatever you’d like,” She replied loftily, carefully taking another sip of her coffee. It might take Willow a little longer to decode those drives, and maybe Adam would continue to keep quiet for a few more days… slow patrol nights were practically foreplay for her and Giles, sometimes. She shivered a little just picturing Giles in action, staking a vamp…

“Alright.” He was still speaking quietly, carefully. “I’ll see you later, then?”

She nodded as she met his eyes again, but neither of them moved.

“Thank you, for the coffee.” Buffy added, a little flustered.

“You’re welcome. …Have a good day.” He told her softly, earnest, and she felt her nerves soften.

“You too.” She murmured, meaning it just as much as he had, some outside part of her marveling at this seemingly and wonderfully mundane moment. Grinning wider, happy that they could have their mundane moments just like anybody else, she stepped forward and stretched up to give him a warm kiss on the cheek. “See ya,” She whispered fondly, and then couldn’t stay any longer or else she was going to be late.

After a few hurried steps down the sidewalk, she couldn’t resist turning around again and walking backwards for a moment so she could still look at him. She was pleasantly surprised to see he hadn’t moved, standing there watching her walk away, and she smiled one more time and saluted her coffee cup.

He lifted a hand to wave, and they both turned then to head off in separate directions, their day significantly brighter by this one small gesture.

As Buffy settled into her seat in the classroom, one of the girls to her right leaned over to say,

“Was that your boyfriend outside?”

Buffy hesitated, not sure whether to expect teasing or derision or what, but then the girl continued,

“What a _hunk_. And I think I heard an accent too? Where did you find him?” She smirked approvingly, and Buffy relaxed, though she still wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

“Does he have a brother?” The girl on the other side of her quipped, and they both laughed, light and airy without malice.

Buffy chuckled softly as well, and pulled out her notebook and pen before cradling her hand lightly around the coffee cup sitting on the corner of her desk. Yeah, college was definitely better than high school… even if it _did_ have a secret and half-evil military organization hiding beneath it.

Her thoughts sobered just slightly, at that.

They really needed to figure out what Walsh, and Adam, were up to.

**... ... ...**

She knew Walsh would be likely using her normal office hours, keeping up the pretense, and she was determined to confront her. She stepped through the halls quickly, not wanting to run into Willow and get dragged off course again - somehow, Willow _would_ find a way to appear right when Buffy was trying to do something she probably shouldn’t…

Thankfully, she didn’t run into the redhead, but she still saw someone unexpectedly familiar at the opposite end of the hall when she turned the corner.

“Giles?” Buffy blurted incredulously. Why would he still be here? And in the hall where Walsh’s office… oh, no.

The figure didn’t break stride when disappearing around the far end of the hallway, but Buffy was almost sure it had been Giles’ tweed jacket she’d seen. She quickened her steps, jogging toward Walsh’s office door and then pausing just outside of it, having no idea what she was going to find on the other side. She took a breath, and cleared her head. Maybe it hadn’t been Giles. There were plenty of professors at the school that wore tweed, sometimes; she just had a bad case of Giles-on-the-brain, that was all.

She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her and leaning against it as she quickly took in the room. It appeared unchanged from the last time she’d been here, no traps or men in military garb carrying high-powered weaponry waiting for her. Walsh was there, seated behind her desk, her face pale and obviously shaken.

Buffy blinked.

“Professor?” She hadn’t meant it to come out as a question - she was here to get answers and hadn’t been above threatening the older woman for them - but the open fear on Walsh’s face surprised her.

“Oh, no,” She laughed shortly, sarcastically, and focused on her desk as she straightened a few papers. Buffy narrowed her eyes as the scientist visibly gathered her emotions and drew up her walls again. “You can turn right around and leave right now.”

“I don’t think so,” Buffy started, and watched the way Walsh gripped her fist around a pen for a moment before shakily dropping it alongside the other pens in the cup on the desk.

“If he comes back in here and sees me talking to you,”

“Who?” Buffy asked sharply. “What are you afraid of?”

Walsh jerked her head up to glare at Buffy, looking at her harder than Buffy figured anyone ever had before. The hate in her eyes was startling.

“Get out, before I press this button and have my men here in sixty seconds.” Walsh threatened lowly, suddenly holding a small transmitter device in her hand. Buffy blinked, confused.

“That _was_ Giles, just now, wasn’t it?” She had even more questions now than she did originally, but settled with, “Why aren’t your men here already?” Walsh hesitated, and Buffy blurted, “You’re scared of _Giles_?”

“I don’t know what he is, or what’s going on between the two of you, but you’re both a- an abomination! _Anarchists_.” Walsh hissed the word as if it were the ultimate insult, on her feet now, obviously incensed at being accused of fear… or, at her fear being _seen_.

“What he is?” Buffy repeated incredulously. What in the world had he said to her?

“You run around as if you own this city, as if none of the rules apply to you, a group of chickens with your heads cut off with no _order_.” Walsh accused. “You think you’re saving the world? You’ve been _lucky_. You’re merely staving off the inevitable, and by hindering the Initiative you’re only putting this town in more danger,”

“Hey, _I’m_ not the one who created the psychotic Frankenstein-monster murderer and let it get loose!”

“You have no understanding of what you’re talking about,” Walsh scoffed, looking mildly unsettled again however. Subconsciously, her free hand rested against her side, where Buffy figured she’d been skewered by her own creation.

“I understand enough,” Buffy returned. “I’ve met Adam already, remember? He likes to talk - _like mother like son_ , I guess. You thought you could control the demons you’ve been capturing, and create your own super-soldier to use at your will,”

Walsh barked out that weird, short laugh again, and Buffy paused.

“ _Adam_ wasn’t our only super-soldier,” She corrected Buffy with snide amusement.

Buffy thought of the scientists talking amongst themselves about dosing the food, about side effects being dangerous for more than just the men, about Riley and his attacks of rage and his eventual physical deterioration when he’d stopped taking his ‘vitamins’.

Buffy widened her eyes, aghast, and Walsh smirked.

“Why do you think we continue to let Riley in and out ‘as he pleases’? Knowing that he still speaks to you, likely tells you what’s going on underground?” Her grin widened. “Well, he tells you what we allow him to tell you.” Then she suddenly grew sharp, deathly serious again, “You can’t take him away from me. Adam might be my unfinished creation… but Riley is my pride and joy.”

Riley had disappeared for a full day, then reappeared without much explanation and acting oddly. And so far, she hadn’t seen him or heard talk of him in the halls today, either.

“What are you doing to him?”

“What is necessary, to stay ahead of the sub-terrestrial threat.” Walsh replied, just as suddenly without any emotion. Calm. _Creepy_. “What is necessary to find and contain Adam.”

“You’re sending _men_ after Adam?!” Buffy exclaimed. “They don't stand a chance! I could barely faze him!”

“Yes,” Walsh smiled again, but it was a disturbingly empty one, “That’s true, isn’t it.” She paused for a moment, and then sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, I can’t send Adam after you either way. I have no control over him, any longer… he’s flown the nest…”

“And Giles threatened you, didn’t he? About any plans to attempt to kill me, again.” Buffy figured. But in what way, to have thrown her off as much as she’d been when Buffy had first entered?

Walsh grimaced, and scowled.

“We’re through, here.”

“Look, I _need_ to know everything you can tell me about Adam.” Buffy insisted. “You know he’s dangerous!”

“My men have been briefed.” Walsh returned coldly. “You’ll do well to stay out of their way.”

“Now you’re threatening me?” Buffy snorted derisively.

“It’s a suggestion.” Walsh replied primly, and gathered up a pile of papers on her desk, effectively ending the conversation.

Buffy gritted her teeth as she considered threatening Walsh, herself, but ultimately she knew it would be a waste of time. If she was still this closed up even after being so obviously unsettled by Giles, then Buffy really wasn’t going to get anything else out of her.

Maybe Giles had gotten something.

Either way, the two of them needed to have a talk.

**... ... ...**

She’d gone to the Magic Box, first, only to find Anya happily announcing that she had the shop all to herself for the day and Giles had gone back home. There, she’d found Giles sitting at his bar counter with his bottle of whiskey and a glass in front of him.

“Oh, hullo Buffy,” He grinned sideways at her as he poured himself a drink. “Back so soon?” He was a bit leery, as he took a drink, and she frowned at him.

“Are you _drunk_?” It was barely four o’clock in the afternoon!

“Hm, yes, quite a bit actually.” He mused, taking a drink.

“Well, stop it! We need to talk.”

“Must we?” He groaned, sounding a little too whiny, a little too _Ripper-y_ for her tastes. “There are other things I’d rather be doing.” He gave her that look again, but didn’t move from his stool.

“Yes, we _must_.” Buffy insisted dryly, and folded her arms across her chest. “You confronted Professor Walsh today, didn’t you?”

He grunted, staring at his glass before taking another drink.

“She called you a ‘what’, Giles.” Buffy raised her eyebrow determinedly at him. “What did you _do_?”

He didn’t exactly look at her as he turned his glass of whiskey atop the counter.

“I may’ve made a point of showing her that you aren’t the only one with powers she could never hope to comprehend.” He muttered under his breath, and then took a drink.

Buffy swallowed and pressed her lips together, trying not to show how worried she was. Giles was still quite reserved about his magic, his abilities, the wealth of dark knowledge he still held boxed up in the far corners of his mind. If and when he ever worked with Willow on a spell, it was always carefully controlled - and never anything that could be dark.

But the tension in his shoulders, in the tone of his voice, and the way the usually-emotionally-in-control Walsh had been so rankled, told Buffy that his magical thoughts of late hadn’t been in so neutral territory.

“That was stupid.” Buffy grumbled in annoyance, frustrated that he would put himself in danger like that just for a little revenge. Magic knowledge aside, the Initiative _still_ could have hurt him, even captured him. After all, they both knew that the scientists were already holding at least one warlock in their cells.

“Stupid?” Giles slid to his feet, indignant, probably insulted, but Buffy didn’t take it back. “She _trapped_ you in a sewer full of demons, with no back-up and a tampered weapon!”

“I haven’t forgotten!” Buffy yelled back. “But you don’t see me trying to return the favor!”

“I didn’t try to kill her,” Giles scoffed, turning slightly to reach for his glass again.

“No, you just _terrified_ her in some way that she was- geez, Giles, she was white as a ghost! That woman doesn’t bat an eye at getting skewered by her own Franken-demon but five minutes alone with you and,” Buffy gestured vaguely in the air. Giles opened his mouth to argue back, but she powered on, “And _now_ she knows you’re not just some harmless human to overlook! You’re on some list somewhere!”

“ _Harmless_?” Giles repeated, staring at her almost aghast, _definitely_ insulted now, and set his whiskey glass down on the counter forcefully. Buffy winced; she hadn’t meant that the way it had come out. “I have been fighting demons longer than you’ve been alive, Buffy.” He growled, his expression hard, and Buffy lowered her eyes for a moment. She knew that, knew that he wasn’t useless or weak by any means. “And I’m sure I’ve been on the Initiative’s _list_ from the first moment that fish wife met me,” He scowled, sarcastic, his next words biting, “Or perhaps right after you told Riley about me? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a little ‘accidental friendly fire’ to get me out of the way so he could have you,”

Buffy slapped him, more to pull him out of himself than out of any emotional reaction of her own to his words. He did stop talking, the sharp sound of skin-on-skin reverberating through the flat as they stared at one another.

“That's enough.” Buffy told him quietly, lowering her hand. “Sober up. I’ll be back tonight so that we can search for Adam, _for real_. I’m done waiting for him to show himself.”

Giles blinked, some of the hardness in his eyes shifting away.

“We don’t know that Willow will ever be able to decrypt those files,” He began to explain, matching Buffy’s lowered, leveled tone. “So I… _asked_ … Walsh about them. And she told me… eventually.” He still sounded defensive, even a little dangerous, and Buffy pursed her lips as she eyed him. “They’re plans. Something secret from the rest of the Initiative. Plans about Adam, about Riley, about some of the other soldiers… She has a secret lab in the bowels of the headquarters. A lab where she plans to-”

“Make more demon hybrids,” Buffy finished in realization, her ire waning briefly in exchange for horror. “Is she- is she going to do the same to Riley?”

“Likely. Apparently she’s already done so, to one of the others from his team. Forrest?”

“Damn.” Buffy breathed in dismay. She paced away from him for a moment, thinking this over. “The way she talked about Adam… it’s like, she’s not super worried about him being a loose cannon. She acts like she’s _proud_ of the mayhem he’s causing.”

“It distracts the rest of the Initiative from what she’s doing.” Giles shrugged and turned to reach for his glass again. “I can’t imagine they’re all in agreement with something so… barbaric, especially toward their own soldiers.”

Buffy quickly stepped forward and brushed his glass aside, sliding it down the counter out of his reach. When he bristled, she folded her arms again.

“And she just _told_ you all of this?”

“As I said, I showed her-”

“What did you _do_? Specifically? Did you use a spell? Did you conjure something?”

“I’m not-”

“You’re not even comfortable enough to detail to me what happened!” Buffy said incredulously, moving her hands to her hips. “If you’re doing the kind of magic that makes you come home and drink afterward and refuse to talk about it - I mean, what were you thinking?”

“There is _nothing_ I won’t do to-!”

His front door burst open behind Buffy, startling them both from their once-again rising argument.

“Giles! Buffy!” Willow’s anxious tone drew Buffy around to face her in concern. “It’s Oz! They have Oz!”

Buffy frowned, confused from the sudden turn and not quite understanding it.

“What? Who?”

“The Initiative! I’m not sure what happened - Riley was acting really strange and suddenly Oz changed and-”

“What do you mean, changed?” Giles asked, sounding just as wrong-footed - though his inebriated mind no doubt didn’t help that.

“He _changed_.” Willow emphasized, and the look on her face said it.

“But it’s the middle of the day,” Buffy pointed out, and Willow shrugged and shook her head, still quite anxious.

“I don’t know what happened!” She repeated. “But he changed and then suddenly there were a whole bunch of them there and they captured him and took him!”

“Riley was there?” Buffy asked her to say it again, to clarify more. “He was acting strange?”

Giles made a noise behind his teeth, and stalked around the counter into the kitchen to reach across for his glass, and toss back the last mouthful in one swallow. Buffy clenched her fist in annoyance, but continued to focus on Willow.

“Yeah, like, like Oz was a _bad guy_ ,” Willow frowned deeply, confused. “Oz and I had talked all night and it had been great and he’d told me about how he learned control over the wolf - we were leaving the dorms to get lunch after my last class and Riley showed up and just… he made Oz angry, I guess,” Willow started to calm down a little as she recalled what had happened, and reiterated it for them. “I couldn’t hear what was being said. Riley had wanted to ask him something man-to-man, he’d said. They’d stepped away, and then when Oz changed everything just happened so fast…” She trailed off with a desperate moan, and collapsed onto one of the bar stools.

Giles unscrewed his whiskey and poured a small amount into a clean glass, pushing it across the counter toward Willow, and Buffy gripped his wrist before he’d let go of it.

“Giles-”

“It will help her _relax_.” He almost spat his words out, returning Buffy’s glare in equal measures. He let go of the glass and then shook Buffy’s hand off of him. “Drink that, slowly.” He suggested to Willow in a softer tone and then, stilted, toward Buffy, “I’ll go… freshen up. Then we’ll see what we can do about Oz.” He and Buffy continued to stare at one another for a moment, though.

His cheek was reddened from the mark of her palm. Buffy felt a little bad about that, but she didn’t shy away from his glare. She knew his snide comment had been because of the alcohol; he hadn’t truthfully meant it and he wouldn’t have said such things otherwise. Still, though, she thought he’d been stupidly reckless using magic like that, and approaching Walsh on his own.

It didn’t matter at the moment that she herself had done the exact same thing, barely a minute after he’d left. She was the Slayer. He wasn’t _weak_ but he wasn’t super-human, either. And the thought of him getting hurt, kidnapped, God-forbid _tortured_ again - just the idea of it made her practically feral.

Yes, deep down she knew that she was acting out of her fear for him, that she was being overprotective of him.

“What’s… going on?” Willow asked as Giles silently turned and disappeared down the hall, and she took a hesitant and tiny sip from the glass. She grimaced, and set it back down again.

“Nothing.” Buffy told her, rounding the counter to get a couple of glasses of water, one for Willow and one for Giles. “We can deal with it later. Tell me about Oz… How, exactly, did he say that he had control over the wolf? And you’re _sure_ you couldn’t hear anything that was said between him and Riley?”

Willow carefully went over everything - wolf related - that she and Oz had talked about over the course of the previous night and this morning. She reluctantly finished her tiny glass of whiskey, seeming to appreciate it by the time it was gone, and Buffy took both tumbler glasses to wash them as she listened.

Giles must have splashed water on his face while in the bathroom, because his hair was a bit damp in places and his skin looked more refreshed when he came back out. He ducked his head as he drank the water Buffy had left at his seat for him, but stood quietly as he listened to Willow finish up her story.

“It sounds like Riley had a plan the whole time… those Initiative guys didn’t give you or Oz any time to really react. They were there as soon as he turned.” Buffy mused, and Willow nodded.

“Yeah… but why?” She furrowed her brow. “Riley doesn’t even _know_ Oz, not really. What he _does_ know shouldn’t make him hate him!”

“It… may not be Riley doing the hating,” Buffy admitted carefully, glancing toward Giles when he sighed. Willow looked even more confused, darting her eyes between them for an answer.

“They’ve been dosing him again,” Giles explained, and Buffy bristled. She’d expected that, but apparently Giles had gotten confirmation from his interrogation of Walsh. “And unfortunately, he hasn’t returned to their headquarters for the past two nights, which means he’ll be going through withdrawal again… and likely more quickly and worse than before.”

“What?” Buffy blurted. “The past two nights? Walsh said that? But he told me…” She trailed off, frowning deeply. If Riley hadn’t been at HQ all day yesterday, then where had he been?

“You’ve seen him?” Giles noted thinly, as if this confirmed something he didn’t like.

“Last night. During patrol. Briefly.” Buffy told him, noticing the muscle beneath his eye twitch.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Excuse me for not wanting to talk about other guys while I’m making love with you!” Buffy huffed sarcastically in annoyance.

“What’s going on?” Willow asked again, loudly this time, butting in before they could get going again.

“This one decided to show up unannounced at the school and _threaten_ the woman half the Initiative boys answer to.” Buffy explained tersely, folding her arms across her chest. Then she realized something, and stared incredulously at Giles. “Wait a minute - the- this morning was just a ruse, wasn’t it? The coffee was just an _excuse_ so you could be on campus and I wouldn’t question it!”

Well, that _hurt_. Sure, it’d been just a cup of coffee, but the gesture had been nice… really nice.

“That’s not true!” Giles protested. “The- the coffee was-” He glanced toward Willow, looking suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “It was a- a- well, you _know_ what it was.”

“And what, you just _happened_ to decide then ‘Oh, I suppose while I’m _around_ , I could pop in for a visit to Maggie Walsh’?” Buffy snarked, gripping her fingers around her own arms.

“Erm… yes.” Giles admitted, and Buffy growled in frustration and turned away from him, needing to just breathe for a moment.

There was silence, for a good minute, as nobody said anything else.

“You brought Buffy coffee?” Willow asked softly, breaking the silence.

“Yes.” Giles said, half uncomfortable and half defensive.

“That’s so cute.” Willow murmured, almost cooing.

Just as Buffy had, when presented with said coffee. Buffy sighed heavily and closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers against them before straightening her shoulders and turning back around to face the other two.

“Okay.” She needed - _needed_ \- to focus on the problems at hand. “Riley is off the reservation, possibly from both the Initiative _and_ us. Adam is still out there somewhere, and whatever he’s planning is likely going down very soon. The Initiative not only know that Oz is a werewolf, but they have him in their custody right now. Walsh has set herself even higher demon goals than just Adam,”

“Walsh has plans for something?” Willow frowned, suspiciously. “How do you know?” Buffy slowly turned her glare in Giles’ direction, and he folded his arms across his chest and clenched his jaw. “Right. You threatened it out of her?” Then, Willow looked disapproving, “Giles, I wouldn’t even let _Buffy_ do that; you really shouldn’t have risked-”

“I’m _not useless_.” Giles growled in annoyance, his glare drifting toward his whiskey bottle again. Buffy gave him a warning look, and his arms tightened across his chest.

“Of course you aren’t,” Willow protested, clearly lost as to how he got to that conclusion, “I just…” She trailed off, unsure of how to deal with her mentor in this state. “What did Walsh tell you? Exactly?”

Giles took a breath, calming his tone before speaking.

“I asked her about those files you have,” He began, and Willow suddenly straightened up in her seat before reaching for her shoulder bag.

“Oh! I brought them with me; I think I’ve almost got them cracked! I’d forgotten, after, you know, the Oz-napping…” She deflated a little. “You already know what’s in them?”

“Not entirely.” Giles shook his head. “Just that they are secret plans that even the rest of the Initiative doesn’t know about. They involve more hybrid experiments; combining demons and humans, somehow… and using Initiative soldiers to do so.”

Willow swallowed and grew a little pale as she set her laptop on the counter in front of her.

“All those demons they’ve been finding… she’s collecting the parts she needs for her experiments,” Buffy realized. “Walsh doesn’t believe she has control of Adam anymore, but I do think he’s helping her. He’s sending all of the demons to them, making it easier for them to capture.” Buffy began to consider everything. “Give the demon his due… he thought this one out.”

“The Trojan Horse.” Giles realized as well.

“That’s diabolical…” Willow mused, and then grimaced as well. “And icky.”

Recognizing Buffy’s determined expression, Willow and Giles both quietly looked at her as they awaited her order of business.

“We definitely need to get Oz out of there. I don’t think he’s a part of this master plan but I have no doubt that they’ll be trying to run experiments on him. Willow, call Xander, ask him to bring the usual undercover attire here, and any supplies he thinks we might need for breaking into the headquarters. Rappelling equipment and all that.” Buffy inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly. “We’re going to need to break into the Initiative again, with no inside man and our names on the no-fly list.” She glanced toward Giles, but only briefly, before moving to his weapons chest and crouching to open it up.

“This is… a daunting prospect.” Giles admitted softly. Buffy nodded in agreement as she dug through the chest.

“Xander and I are going to go in. Giles, I’ll need you and Willow to try and hack into the city’s electrical grid. We’ve got to try and power down the Initiative. And Willow, keep trying that decryption. Hopefully there’s _something_ in there that’ll give us a hint to where Walsh’s secret labs are.”

“I’m going with you,” Willow told Buffy, standing from her seat.

“No, it’s too dangerous Will,”

“Giles can handle the electrical grid without me.” Willow insisted. “I can leave him instructions, show him exactly what to do. I can’t just _sit_ here. This is _Oz_.”

Buffy looked up toward Giles again, and he nodded imperceptibly.

“Of course.” He murmured.

“Okay.” Buffy said, pulling out a crossbow and handing it up to Willow. “Okay. You can back us up.” Willow nodded seriously as she accepted the weapon, and then turned to pick up the phone on the desk.

“How do you plan on getting in?” Giles asked quietly, propping his hand on the wall as he knelt somewhat near Buffy.

“Well, I highly doubt my credentials work anymore,” She mumbled as she found one of her favored knives and slid it into the side of her boot.

“Perhaps there’s a back way in?” He wondered thoughtfully, almost absently reaching into the chest as well and picking out the other crossbow and extra bolts.

“There has to be,” Buffy recalled with sudden hope. “The way those guys always seemed to just appear on my patrol routes out of nowhere,” She accepted the crossbow ammo from him without thought, for a moment, but then he shifted his grip to hold onto her hand before she pulled away. “If we can’t find one, then we use the elevator shaft I know about.”

“Buffy,”

“After we get Oz back.” She interrupted him, gentle but firm. She knew from the softness of his tone that he’d been about to bring up their fight. “I need my Watcher right now, Giles.”

He looked at her for a moment, then rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand once before nodding and focusing back toward the weapons chest. He passed her the crossbow without looking, then pulled out the small clip-on ammo holster. As she checked that the bow was in working order, he attached the holster around her thigh nearest him, his hands steady and unhesitating. It was still a bit of an intimate gesture, but Buffy didn’t mind it.

When it was secured and their eyes met again, she touched her fingers against the cheek she hadn’t slapped, a gesture of thanks, before standing and tucking the crossbow bolts into the holster and gripping the weapon in her hand.

**... ... ...**

By the time Xander arrived with the gear, Willow had opened up the files and discovered more of the details about Walsh’s (and therein, Adam’s) plans.

And, helpfully, Xander didn’t arrive alone.

“Look who I found thumbing it on the side of the road.” He quipped, standing at the front door with Wesley and Faith beside him.

“What took you so long?” Buffy demanded, and Faith rolled her eyes as she brushed by her and into the apartment.

“Got held up.” She glanced around, surprised to see everyone there and weapons laying out. “We got another apocalypse?”

“Sort of.” Willow answered from the couch. “More like, an evil cyborg demonoid guy and his evil scientist ‘mommy’ intent on creating more creatures like him for his very own army.”

“Sounds apocalyptic enough to me.” Faith replied, and slid up onto a stool as she gave Buffy a look. “I thought you said the Hellmouth’s been quiet? Cavemen, skeletors, chaotic witches, evil secret government - I think your and my definition of quiet are wildly different.”

Buffy gave her a confused look, then glanced toward Giles.

“I talked with Wesley on the phone yesterday; explained to him what we knew at that point about the Initiative.” Giles told her, and she huffed and rolled her eyes as she joined them in the living room, on the far other side of the table than where Giles was standing.

“Nice to know they were in town, after all.”

“Excuse me for not wanting to discuss other guys while making love with you,” Giles retorted sassily, copying her words from earlier, and Buffy clenched her jaw as she tried to refrain from getting into it with him again.

“I’m sensing some tension.” Faith raised her eyebrows as she glanced around at the others.

“Let’s go over everything we know, together, and make sure everyone here is up to speed,” Buffy suggested tersely as Wesley shifted closer to the back of the couch. “Some of us aren’t exactly in the right frame of mind to go barging into the Initiative this second, anyway.”

Giles visibly bristled at that, but he didn’t say anything, because it was fairly obvious he was still inebriated and he couldn’t exactly defend that.

“Well…” Willow started hesitantly, and then continued when no one objected, “there’s a bunch of stuff in the files we already know about room 314… and then there’s what’s called a ‘final phase’, where Adam manufactures a bunch of creepy cyber-demonoids like him. Unfortunately, it doesn’t say where the special lab is,”

“This was Walsh’s plan for Adam all along… And she might not know it yet, but he’s still following her plan. All those demons overcrowded in the holding cells - Adam’s gonna make sure they attack the Initiative from the inside.” Buffy told them.

“Demons versus soldiers.” Xander realized. “Massacre, massacre.”

“And Adam has his neat pile of body parts to start assembling his army.” Willow added. “Do you think he and Walsh will work together again, at that point? Or will he try to kill her again?”

“Do we care?” Giles muttered under his breath, and Buffy gave him a sharp look. Xander paused for a beat, and then lifted his hand up,

“Does anybody else miss The Mayor? ‘I just wanna be a big snake’?”

“We need to rescue Oz, and I _need_ to shut Adam down. He has to know that Walsh is alive and walking around, by now, and I have a feeling his final phase is gonna start soon.” Buffy announced.

“Okay I’m confused again.” Xander piped in. “Adam has this big evil plan - why is he so anxious for you to _know_ about it?” He gestured toward Buffy. “Those files _had_ to have been planted - no way stick-up-the-butt Riley just left something like _that_ out on his desk. You said the rest of the room was spotless.”

“He wants me there.” Buffy figured. “Probably thinks I’d even the kill ratio.”

“He’s not worried you might kill, oh, say, _him_?” Xander pointed out.

“No. He’s really not.” Buffy replied grimly. She noticed Giles’ fingers twitch against his jeans, clenching and releasing his fists a couple of times before he lurched to his feet.

“Well, there’s certainly no lack of supplies.” Giles paced a bit across his living room floor, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at the pile of weapons on his coffee table. “Only wish I knew which ones would kill Adam,”

Buffy inwardly sighed. She couldn’t hold his overprotectiveness against him, when she felt the same way about him - he just needed to remember that they weren’t supposed to _act_ on those feelings. They weren’t like everybody else… they were Watcher and Slayer. Protecting the _world_ had to come first even over protecting one another… as difficult as that was.

And then there was the drinking, but that was another matter, and Buffy knew she was personally biased on that subject.

“His power source is a uranium core embedded somewhere in his chest,” Buffy reminded them all.

“Yeah,” Willow spoke up as she scanned through a page on her laptop again, “I have the original design schematics here… Professor Walsh actually did a pretty good job trying to hide the fact his power source isn’t biological at all. It’s a small reservoir of uranium 235, located somewhere near his spine, lasts essentially forever. Meaning, cutting off his head is useless and won’t actually kill him. He has to be, um, annihilated completely.”

“Great.” Xander commented. “So we just ask him to lie down quietly while we do some exploratory surgery.”

“Woah-” Faith called out somewhat loudly, pulling everyone’s attention toward her. “Back the truck up like, _way_. This ‘Adam’ is some kind of demon-hybrid-freak? Who is he? And you’ve got a _professor_ doin’ the mad scientist thing? And what’s this about Oz needing rescued? Jesus, I leave for a couple months and you guys just go to hell in a handbasket.”

“Angel told me you’ve been having prophetic dreams?” Buffy asked her. “You’ve seen Adam.”

“Okay. That fugly was Adam? Yikes.” Faith grimaced at her memory.

“I told you about the Initiative, last time you were here. And I guess Giles caught Wes up to speed - it’s all connected. Professor Walsh works for the Initiative and some of the students do too. Adam is a creation of hers that is evil and has gone rogue - though, we’ve figured today that he isn’t actually as rogue as everybody thinks.”

“And Boy-Wolf Wonder?”

“Captured.” Buffy winced. “One of our… friends… has been brainwashed, or something. He knows Oz is a werewolf and he took him… Oh.” Buffy realized something, and looked at Giles. “Oz is a lure. To make sure I end up in the HQ, in case we hadn't found or been able to hack into those files.”

“I don’t like this.” Giles stated. “Adam likely has particular plans for you, aside from using you to even out the battle.”

“Well then we’ll have our plans for him, too.” Buffy returned firmly.

“What about magic?” Willow offered up hopefully. “Some kind of, I don’t know, uranium-extracting spell?” Giles paused, giving her a look that Buffy also mirrored, and she sighed. “I know, I’m reaching…”

“Perhaps a paralyzing spell,” Giles was inspired by her nonetheless, and turned toward one of his bookshelves, pulling a book from the top of it. “Only, I can’t perform the incantation of this…”

“And you won’t,” Buffy informed him warningly. “Even if you _weren’t_ drunk, I wouldn’t let you be doing anything magic again, not so soon after-”

“I’m not a _child_ , Buffy,” Giles retorted in annoyance, and Xander and Willow glanced toward one another warily. “I can perfectly handle-”

“Oh, like you _handled_ Professor Walsh earlier today?” Buffy raised her eyebrow.

“Um, what’s going on?” Xander wondered, not quite speaking up loudly enough to overpower the other two.

“I already tried that question. Twice.” Willow told him wryly, setting her computer aside and folding her arms across her chest, more defensively than out of anger or annoyance.

“Okay,” Xander held up his hand again, one finger raised. “Next question then - were you drinking because you’re fighting, or are you fighting because you were drinking?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Giles began hotly, but Xander put his hands on his waist and interrupted him,

“Au contraire, my friend! It _is_ my business! We are in the business of Slaying, and that business needs to be happening, _now_. When our resident Watcher/Slayer duo is at odds, the business sucks!”

Giles paused for a moment, and then ducked his head, begrudgingly accepting Xander’s words, but still avoiding looking at Buffy.

“The point I was initially making, is,” He murmured under his breath, moving to perch on the arm of the couch, on Willow’s side. “The paralyzing spell can only be incanted by an experienced witch, and you’d have to be within striking distance of the subject.”

“…See what you get for taking French, instead of Sumerian?” Xander softened his tone a little, teasing Buffy, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

“What was I thinking?” Buffy grumbled back, sufficiently chastised as well, fiddling with sharpening one of the stakes that had been on the table and avoiding looking at Giles.

“So, no problem.” Xander piped up with sarcastic hope, still working on bringing the gang back into full syncopation again, “All we need is combo-Buffy - her with Slayer strength, Giles’s multilingual know-how, and Willow’s witchy power.”

Giles paused skimming through his book, and looked up at Xander.

“Yeah,” Xander sighed, deflating. “Don’t tell me. I’m just full of helpful suggestions.”

“As a matter of fact, you are.” Giles told him, and Buffy and Willow both looked at him in surprise.

There was a beat of silence, and then Wesley sighed heavily, tiredly.

“May I even bother to ask whether this drinking and spellwork happened simultaneously?” Wesley asked tiredly

“No!” Buffy and Giles huffed at him at the same time.

**... ... ...**

They spent a few more hours going over the different parts of their plan, and the spell, making sure everyone knew their role without a doubt. Anya and Tara had been called to take over manning the computer at Giles’ and hacking into the powergrid to blackout the Initiative. Willow made sure they had explicitly detailed instructions to follow.

By the time they were as comfortable as they _could_ be with their plan, Giles was fully himself and they were all vibing rather well… mostly.

Buffy _really_ wanted Giles to talk about the magics he’d used, worried about a possible relapse of some sort, and Giles himself had taken to feeling guilty about slowing the team down in their Oz rescue because of his need to sober up first. No one had explicitly blamed him for that, but he was once again taking the self-flagellation to a whole new degree.

They packed a couple duffels of weapons and spell supplies, and headed back to campus in a stiflingly quiet group. Willow was eventually the one to break it, when she asked Xander if he was nervous.

“Nervous? Nah. I’m full of that good ol’ kamikaze spirit.”

“Xander, just because this is never going to work is no need to be negative.” Giles told him.

“The enjoining spell isn’t powerful enough to defeat Adam?” Faith asked, as Buffy led them all into Riley’s dorm building.

“It’s very powerful.” He assured her. “It’s also… extraordinarily dangerous.”

Buffy didn’t pause until they were in Riley’s room and standing in front of the floor-length mirror. She needn’t have worried, as they didn’t run into any other person, student or otherwise, but the quicker they got this done, hopefully the more likely they would be successful. As it was, Oz had been down there long enough.

“Game faces, guys.” Buffy said as they all donned their undercover looks - lab coats for the ladies, and military garb for the guys. She looked each of them in the eye for a moment before resting on Giles. “We’re going in. Remember, hang back for a few minutes until Faith and Wesley have the Colonel. They’ll use him as a shield and free Oz, while I’m looking for those secret labs, and before the lights kick back on you guys find someplace safe to set up for the spell.” She focused on Willow again. “Be careful.”

Willow nodded, a bit of pain in her eyes as she understood what Buffy was asking by looking at her specifically. Before they’d left the apartment, Buffy had pulled Willow aside into the bathroom and told her about her worry for Giles, and that he’d already been dabbling in likely powerful magics earlier in the day. As saddened as she was to do so, she would keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t lose control or get too far pulled into the lure of the power.

But Willow had told her something, too, quiet and serious and making Buffy rethink her ire with Giles - _“If he really did use his magic like that… Buffy, that’s a pretty big deal. I mean, you should’ve heard the way he warned me in the beginning, about dabbling too casually. About how the pull always grows stronger every single time you cast. How you never forget the taste of the really powerful stuff… Buffy, he risked his worst fear for you. To do what he thought might protect you. Do you see what I’m trying to say?”_

Fine… maybe it was noble, and sweet, and a powerful statement in itself - but couldn’t it also be stupid, as well as all that?

Buffy back-kicked her heel into the glass mirror, sending it shattering down into the empty elevator shaft. Giles and Xander quietly worked together to rig up the rappelling equipment, then helped the girls into their harnesses before pulling on their own.

Wesley fumbled with his, until Xander rolled his eyes and helped him as well.

“We don’t have much use for these in L.A.” Wesley sniffed defensively.

Giles’ hands were warm and steady, and before Buffy could stubbornly argue herself out of it, she wrapped her fingers around one of his palms. He hesitated and froze, slowly lifting his eyes up to hers, questioning. She held his gaze for a moment, and then looked at the others again just as they positioned themselves to rappel down the elevator shaft.

“I love all of you, you know that, right?” Buffy said, and Xander groaned deeply.

“We’re all gonna die.”

“We’re not gonna die.” Buffy promised him, and met Giles’ eyes again. He squeezed her hand once before they let go and then helped the others with their descent.

Not a minute after they’d all reached the top of the descended elevator and wriggled their way inside, the power shut down. Emergency lights kicked on soon after, and Buffy nodded toward Xander and Giles, who quickly worked on forcing the elevator doors open.

“I remember where the abandoned rooms are,” Buffy murmured, feeling the need to whisper although all sounded quiet on the other side of the doors so far. “Follow me, and stay close.”

“So not a problem.” Xander promised, retrieving the tranquilizer gun from the bag, and Buffy’s crossbow to pass toward her as he held his side of the door open with his back and let her step through first.

The area was unnervingly quiet, but they didn’t wait for someone to show up - she nodded the all clear and Faith and Wesley darted out next, recalling from the blueprints where to find the Colonel’s quarters. Once they were out of sight, Buffy focused on her part of the plan. She couldn’t waste time worrying about how every cog in the machine was working - they all just needed to keep moving.

They quickly and quietly ran through the darkened halls, until they eventually reached a split that would send them different directions.

“Here’s where we part ways - be careful, I don’t know how much has changed since the last time I was here. Just stick together, and you’ll be fine,” Buffy assured them. “Good-”

She couldn’t finish her well wishes, however, because as she turned she bumped into someone tall and solid. She stepped back and stared up, a half-second from attacking, when she realized who it was.

“Riley?!” She hissed in surprise.

“I’m sorry, Buffy.” He said in disappointment, his face stoic but his eyes pained, and then he touched his ear. “We’re hot.”

Before she could react to his words, he lifted his taser gun and pointed it at her, and soon there were more military guys coming from the other hall, surrounding the gang, all brandishing guns at them.

* * *


	29. Chapter 28 (Primeval, Restless)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing where the previous chapter left off, Buffy and the gang confront Adam... and the consequences that follow.
> 
> My own spin on Buffy's and Giles' dreams in 'Restless' :-) ... And the consequences that follow ;-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A certain line below, said by Giles, is quoted from Raymond Reddington’s character from The Blacklist. Red had a separate quote in regards to mercy; “You see that? That is what a good man does. That is what separates men like him, from men like you. And me.” and I was like, that’s Giles and Ben - “She’s not like us.”! So I had to have a little homage in which Giles gets all protective in the spirit of Reddington.

* * *

“Colonel-”

“Shut up.” McNamara ordered Buffy, as he dug through their duffel bags. He obviously wasn’t too keen about being suddenly awoken and dragged out of bed to be used as leverage for breaking out one of their prisoners, only to soon after discover another group of them caught sneaking through the halls. “You’ve got some nerve, lady.”

“You have to listen to us,”

“You think you and your friends can just keep waltzing into a government installation brandishing weapons like-” He stopped, and lifted out the thing in his hands, turning it this way and that. “Like…”

“It’s a gourd.” Willow supplied, and he stared at her.

“Magic gourd.” Giles added, somewhat defensively, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“What kind of freaks are you people?” The colonel wondered incredulously.

“Adam is here, Colonel. In the Initiative.” Buffy informed him, undaunted.

It hadn’t escaped her notice that once things had settled down somewhat and they’d been moved into this room, Riley had slipped away behind the group of other soldiers guarding them. No one else had seemed to notice. She was extremely disappointed that they’d somehow turned him into an Initiative-man again, but she didn’t have the time to think about it right now.

“Nice try.” McNamara scoffed, rounding the table to approach her a little closer.

“Those overcrowded containment cells of yours? Courtesy of Adam.” Buffy spoke quickly, before he could tell her to shut up again. “He’s pulling a Trojan Horse on you, he’s just waiting for-”

“Every inch of this installation is under constant 24-hour surveillance.” McNamara insisted firmly.

“Including the secret lab?” Willow asked pointedly.

“ _Including everything_!” He retorted at her. Then he paused, and looked toward Giles and Buffy. “What secret lab?”

“The one Adam’s been using. The one built for the final stage of the 314 project. Walsh’s lab. Speaking of which, have you seen her lately?” Buffy glanced around. “I thought she’d be more interested in my capture.”

McNamara stared at her, and then glanced toward Giles again.

“Annnd you have no idea what I’m talking about.” Buffy realized, concerned.

“I know everything that goes on around here.” The colonel propped his hands on his hips, fed up with them, and Buffy rolled her eyes. “A tick on a mouse couldn’t get in without my knowing it. And if _Adam_ wants to try, we’re ready for him.”

“Jolly good.” Giles said sarcastically, and removed his glasses as he rubbed at his eyebrow. “How exactly do you plan to get close enough to Adam to remove his power source?”

The colonel took a second to answer that, likely having not even realized Adam _had_ a removable power source.

“Hit him simultaneously with multiple taser blasters. Incapacitate him with as much voltage as we can muster.”

“Great plan.” Xander quipped. “That’s right up there with ‘duck and cover’.”

“I’ve seen Adam hit with taser blasts,” Buffy told him. “He feeds on it. And now you’re gonna provide him with an all-you-can-eat buffet?”

“You telling me my business?” McNamara looked like he was trying to figure out how to court-martial her as a civilian.

“This is _not_ _your_ business. It’s _mine_.” Buffy returned, not cowed by him in the least. “You, the Initiative, the boys at the Pentagon - you’re all in way over your heads, messing with primeval forces you have _absolutely_ no comprehension of.”

“And you do?” McNamara scoffed derisively.

“I’m the Slayer.” She took a step toward him. “You’re playing on _my_ turf.”

“Up there, maybe.” The colonel gestured his head above them. “But down here, I’m the one who’s in control.”

“Sir…” One of the men at the computers chose that moment to hesitantly speak up, drawing McNamara’s attention. “The backup power is still not responding. We’re locked in.”

No one said anything else for a moment, the awkward tension in the room only increasing.

**... ... ...**

“The containment area’s been breached! Hostiles are loose!” Things had quickly moved downhill in a number of minutes, and the gang all shared a look as the colonel moved closer to the soldier man behind the computer.

“How many?” McNamara asked.

“…All of them, sir.”

“It’s Adam.” Buffy insisted, and McNamara straightened again to give her a warning look, which she ignored. “Look, I’m the only one that can stop him now. Just let me handle this. Get your people out of here.” No need to specify anything about her whole team quite literally working together on it… if they started talking about magic spells in front of him he might just toss them out for the demons himself.

McNamara immediately turned toward a group of men waiting quietly against the wall.

“You men, follow me. We gotta take the armory now.”

“Colonel-”

“These people are under arrest do you understand?” He completely ignored Buffy as he spoke seriously to one of the other soldiers, who nodded and reaffirmed his grip on his blaster rifle.

“Yes sir.”

Without another word the colonel led his group out of the room, and Giles shifted toward the table where their bags lay, as if he needed to lean on it tiredly.

Which gave Buffy plenty of room to knock the two remaining guards quickly unconscious.

“We’ve gotta find Adam.”

“On it,” Willow hurried to a computer while Giles stuffed their gear back into the duffel.

“The enjoining spell is extremely touchy.” Giles reminded them. “It’s volatile, w-we can’t risk it being interrupted.” He grabbed up the bag and sidled between Buffy and Xander, all of them watching over Willow’s shoulder as she typed quickly. “We need someplace that’s close to you, and quiet.”

“Uh, quiet?” Xander said dubiously as he gestured toward the security monitor next to Willow’s, which showed the main area of the base quickly being overrun by monsters. It certainly wasn’t looking good for the Initiative’s side of the board. Soldiers and scientists were being thrown around like ragdolls, left and right.

“How we doing, Will?” Buffy asked anxiously. Bad intentions aside, these were still human beings being attacked, and it didn’t sit well with her.

“Done.” Willow assured as the computer made a few beeping noises. “…Here we are. According to this, there’s air ducts and electrical conduits all running into there,” She pointed at a particular spot on the screen.

“So?” Buffy couldn’t really tell what was what about it.

“So, there’s no _there_ there.” Willow replied, and Giles squinted at the screen as he rested his hand lightly against Buffy’s back, leaning a little to get a closer look at the monitor. “Look.” Willow tapped the screen again, and some of the lines flashed on and off again, emphasizing an area that seemed emptier than other parts.

Ah, a blank spot on a blueprint.

“It’s Adam.” Buffy felt it in her bones. She shifted her weight just slightly back on her heels, leaning into his hand a little, soaking in the warmth of his palm.

“Are you sure?” Giles asked, not as if he didn’t believe her, but more like he didn’t want her to be right. Either way, Adam would be confronted tonight - had to be. Giles couldn’t stop that.

“Right behind 314.” She confirmed gravely, now recognizing that part of the blueprints from her previous infiltration of the base. She should have guessed he’d stay somewhere close to what he was familiar with. “Can you unlock it?” Buffy asked Willow.

“I don’t have to. All the locks in the whole place have been disengaged.” She answered, and then grimaced. “Except for the exits.”

“Demon open house.” Xander said dryly, shouldering the blaster he’d taken off one of the unconscious soldiers. “And means the others are likely still here, somewhere.”

“We need to trust that they can take care of themselves,” Giles warned carefully, gently. “Our focus needs to be on Adam.”

Willow nodded ruefully, biting her lip in an attempt to hide her concern for Oz.

“Point.” Buffy turned her head slightly to crack the bones in her neck. “So we know we’re going to 314. Now all we have to do is get there alive.”

The carnage on the security monitor wasn’t looking any better. They wasted no more time; Giles stepped back to let Buffy lead the way out of the room, Xander next with the taser gun, then Willow and Giles bringing up the rear.

“Follow me _exactly_ and _stay close_.” Buffy warned them, her instincts taking over as they reached the main floor and she scanned across the room, finding the most direct and clear route through the fighting to get to the hallway they needed.

She didn’t bother fighting too hard against what demons that did happen to notice them - she knocked them down, pushed them out of the way, and forged ahead. They did have to dodge a soldier’s fire that had gone haywire, but eventually managed to make it to 314 fairly quickly.

The lab was empty, and looked like it’d been empty since Walsh’s unconscious body had initially been found. Buffy wasn’t sure whether that was relieving, or more worrying. For now, though, it helped them.

“Okay. It should be over here,” Buffy gestured toward the far corner, and Willow followed after to help her move some equipment out of the way. Buffy felt along the wall, and sure enough some of the panels pulled free, revealing a crudely structured hallway. “Once I’m in, barricade the door behind me.” Buffy instructed the other three, and then focused on Giles. “Is this place okay to be magic central?”

“It should do…” Giles glanced around as he caught his breath, setting his duffel bag on top of one of the tables.

“As long as we don’t get blowed up or nothin’.” Willow quipped.

“What are the odds of that?” Xander added.

The door behind them burst open again, startling them all, and Xander darted his gun up as Giles clenched his fist preparing for a punch.

“Hey!” It was Oz, dressed in an ill-fitting green shirt and camo pants, followed quickly by Wesley and Faith. “Saw you guys headed this way, figured we’d join you.”

“We couldn’t get out. The exits are locked, though nothing else seems to be,” Wesley frowned, confused, and shuffled out of the way as Giles and Faith quickly toppled over the other lab table and barricaded the door shut with it.

“That would be Adam.” Xander told them, lowering his weapon.

“How long before the ritual kicks in?” Buffy asked Giles as he returned to his duffel and began digging out candles.

“F-five minutes, give or take,” He answered.

“I’ll move fast then.”

“We’ll watch their backs.” Faith promised, squaring her feet at one side of the door, and Wesley nodded as he mirrored her, resituating his grip on the crossbow in his hands. Oz shifted his shoulders and clenched his fists, nodding as well.

“You’ll be cool?” Buffy checked with him, and he gave her a serious look as he nodded again, his eyes flashing with the yellow-gold of the wolf.

“I protect what’s mine.” He said, and it was somewhat of an odd statement to come from Oz, but it put Buffy more at ease about his presence in town than she’d been all week. They were still his pack, then, to the wolf. That was good.

Buffy sent them all a brief nod, lingering her gaze on Giles again for a moment, and then turned down the newly revealed hallway.

“Buffy, I still don’t like you going in alone.” Xander commented, and she paused as his footsteps shifted closer toward her and Willow.

She faced them again, smiling a little, showing them her confidence, her lack of fear.

“I won’t be.”

As soon as she was heading down the hallway, she heard Willow close up the secret door behind her, and suddenly all sound was eerily swallowed up, save for the endless humming of electrical equipment. For a moment she imagined herself as a rat in a maze, and it brought goosebumps to her skin.

She couldn’t help but grimace as she thought of her last painful confrontation with Adam, but she knew that she only needed to withstand his attacks for a minute or two before the spell would be enacted. She had no idea what to expect from Walsh, or if she would even be in this room with Adam at all, but she didn’t discount it.

She _hadn’t_ exactly expected to see Riley, again, though.

He was strapped into some kind of crazy looking chair, all kinds of tubes and wires hooked up to it, and he didn’t react much when she dropped down the ladder into the sunken room and approached him.

“Riley? What-” She glanced around quickly, her hands hovering but unsure what to do. “What are you doing down here?” She couldn’t actually trust him now, not after what he’s done. “What is this?” When she looked into his face again, he only stared up at her unblinkingly, mouth closed. “Say something!”

“He can’t.” Professor Walsh’s voice behind her caused her to turn around, and she stiffened upon seeing the scientist and… something that used to be Forrest, standing a few feet away. “He isn’t programmed to.” Walsh smiled a little, almost demurely, and sounded proud as she said, “He’s part of the final phase, now.”

“As you were supposed to be.” Adam added with some disappointment, striding into the room from an entrance behind Walsh.

Buffy noticed something flash in Walsh’s eyes, and her lip twitched in disagreement, but she didn’t say anything or otherwise visibly react to Adam’s presence. Rather impressive, really, considering he’d tried to kill her. She’d either forgiven him for that little transgression, or she wasn’t the one really in charge anymore.

“Sorry, I don’t jump through hoops on command.” Buffy replied, giving them a ‘what can you do’ smile. “I’ve never really been one to toe the line.”

She could just hear Wesley’s derisive snort of agreement, in the back of her mind, and see Giles’ little proud smile hiding at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh.” Adam said in response, which admittedly wrongfooted her a bit. He was an odd duck, this one. Not even a flash of frustration or annoyance on his face?

It was no small consolation that Walsh looked annoyed enough for the both of them. Buffy widened her smile.

“Kill her.” Walsh huffed with impatience, and Adam glanced over at her sharply, clearly unhappy with being ordered around, but then he looked toward the half-demon-Forrest and gestured his head.

“Gladly.” The creature said, his voice rougher and angrier than Buffy had ever heard it before. He lunged for her with an inhuman speed, and she realized very quickly that as much as he still looked human, even less of that was actually true. He was strong, almost as strong as fighting off another Slayer, and as Buffy struggled with him she noticed Walsh picking up one of the medical saws and turning the blade on.

“Soon, brother.” Adam said to Riley, awkwardly patting his demon clawed hand on his shoulder as he stepped around his chair and disappeared into a back room.

Demon-Forrest tightened his chokehold and dragged Buffy further away from Riley, giving Walsh plenty of room to do whatever it was that she was about to do.

“Don’t worry, dear boy,” Walsh spoke soothingly, and Buffy could see the sweat breaking out on Riley’s skin. Whatever was going on inside of him, it seemed he was trying to fight it. “I’ve given you a localized anesthetic, so you won’t feel a thing.” She paused, then, and shrugged. “And even if you do, it won’t matter for long. This is what we’ve always talked about, see? A stronger Initiative, an _unstoppable_ Initiative. My boys, reaching their full potential.”

She looked over toward demon-Forrest, and Buffy actually felt his grip loosen just slightly at her proud tone. It was enough. Buffy dropped her weight forward, pulling Forrest up and over her back, throwing him off of her and into Walsh, who dropped the rotating saw in defense as she collapsed back into a table, glass shattering.

Forrest was fairly quick to get up, but Walsh wasn’t, grimacing as she clutched at her wrist in pain. Her palm was sliced open widely, gushing blood, and she stumbled over to another part of the room to find something to staunch the bleeding. Buffy put her focus into Forrest, then, and traded blows with him for longer than she cared to admit.

Okay, he was sort of kicking her ass. He _had_ to be on something - there was no way this was just demon stuff combined with zombie human stuff. Forrest had her pinned down on one of the lab tables when she realized Riley was moving - Riley was _digging his own hand into his chest_.

“What the hell?” She choked out, grimacing against Forrest’s forearm pressing down on her windpipe.

“Is that it?” Forrest sneered down at her as she slammed her fists down uselessly against his joints. “Is that all you got?”

“I have to do everything _myself_ ,” Walsh grumbled, standing a little straighter even as she clutched a wad of gauze against her profusely bleeding hand. Not noticing Riley’s state, she grabbed the abandoned saw off the ground and approached Buffy. “Hold her still!” She shouted at Forrest.

Suddenly Riley was standing, holding something in his bloodied fingers, and then he tossed it to the side and rushed forward to grab onto the back of Walsh’s coat, turning her around and away from the table, flinging her to the floor and kicking the saw out of her reach.

“Look who’s come off the bench,” Forrest grinned, focused on Riley now, his arm easing up off Buffy’s throat as he shifted around the end of the table toward Riley.

She acted for a second that she’d passed out, but as soon as his face was in reach, she swung her legs off the table and connected it with the heel of her boot as hard as she could. He grunted and stumbled back a few steps as she hoped to her feet.

“I need to get to Adam, like _now_.” She informed Riley, staring him straight in the eye. Other than the bloodied hole below his shoulder, his pallor actually seemed to be looking better. “Are you able?”

“Go.” He nodded, determination and anger in his eyes, and not pointed toward her. Whatever they’d been doing to him, _whoever_ had been doing it to him - well, they could discuss that later. He seemed to be in control of himself now, and that was what mattered.

Buffy didn’t even bother glancing down at Walsh’s unconscious form on the floor, stepping over it as she hurried off in the direction Adam had disappeared.

This room was set up a lot like the one the colonel had been holding them in. There were security monitors set up, and Adam was watching them avidly. Buffy folded her arms across her chest.

“Fun, isn’t it?”

“I do appreciate violence.” He said as he straightened and turned to face her.

“Good.” She wasn’t sure if she was gonna _know_ when the spell worked, but she didn’t want to waste any more time, and rushed at him.

Immediately finding herself flying through the air in the opposite direction, she figured the spell wasn’t active yet.

She landed on the floor with a grunt, but rolled with it and immediately shifted into a defensive ready stance, one of the ones Giles had taught her. _If you’re going to continue with the_ _flair_ _, then make sure you use it to your advantage._ His voice was already in her head even if he really wasn’t yet.

It was a good thing, too, because Adam had extended the spear in his arm and was suddenly filling her field of vision, rearing back to stab her as he had countless others already. She dodged to the side and grabbed his wrist, following his momentum through and using her other hand to snap the spear off and toss it aside. She quickly followed it with a hard punch to his stomach, knocking him back a few steps.

“Broke your arm.” She noted with a smirk.

“Got another.” He returned with a disturbed grin of his own, and held his right arm out to the side as the tech stuff on it began shifting…

And where there was once a demon arm, there was now some kind of gatling gun.

Buffy stared at it wide-eyed, her breath catching hard in her chest. _Well, shit._

“I’ve been upgrading.” Adam’s ‘smile’ widened, and he lifted his arm-gun toward her, the weapon spinning up to fire.

Buffy kicked into gear immediately, diving for the control table in the corner and vaulting behind it, narrowly missing the bullets that pierced the concrete wall behind her. She tucked her feet under her, her weight on her toes as she mentally scrambled to figure out what to do next. It _had_ to have been five minutes by now, why wasn’t anything-

Oh.

_Shit._

The blistering and smoking metal of the destroyed console around her didn’t even matter to her, as she lithely rose to her feet. It was inconsequential to her, to the _power_ , _to them_.

Adam looked mildly impressed as she stood unscathed behind the blown apart hunk of metal.

“You can’t last much longer.” He told her loftily, with complete confidence. Buffy smirked.

“We can. We are forever.” What she said, how she said it, she wasn’t sure how. She didn’t _care_ how. She was a vessel of power and as the Sumerian spell began to flow effortlessly from her lips, her smile widened. Adam’s smile had dropped.

“Interesting.” He mused, and then lifted his gun to begin firing at her again.

There was no hesitation as a new spell came from her lips, something that built an invisible shield in front of her, stopping the bullets well before they reached her. Giles’ knowledge alone, in spells, made him powerful - that, coupled with Willow’s natural power as well, and Xander’s sheer force of will - she, _they_ , were unstoppable.

Buffy took a step closer to Adam.

“Very… interesting.” He sounded worried now, very worried, and the tech in his arm shifted to fire another missile at her.

Time didn’t matter, _matter_ didn’t matter. The missile became doves.

Adam stared at her now, completely flummoxed, and with another wave of her hand she had his gun shifting back into an arm, no longer under his own control. He grimaced and finally approached her, a last ditch effort to fight, but it was as if he moved in slow motion. She dodged his swipes and punches easily, pulling moves she didn’t even know, punching back harder than she’d been able to before.

She moved quickly, not giving him time to retaliate, following after him as he stumbled back and grabbing his throat in her hand.

“H-how, can you-” She blocked and held onto his wrist when he attempted to hit her off of him, rather easily restraining him.

“You could never hope to grasp the source of our power.” It wasn’t just her voice, it was somehow all of their voices, all at once, in perfect unison.

She threw Adam over end into one of the other consoles, and when he bent over on hand and knee, she kicked him up against the wall. As soon as his back hit it with a gasp of breath, she thrust her fist forward, aiming for the gnarly stitch-up down the middle of his torso.

He had no chance to stop her, and only stared in confused shock as she dug her fingers inside of him, searching blindly for what she knew to be somewhere… _the upper thoracic vertebrae, higher_ -

Giles’ voice in her head again. She smiled.

“But yours is right here.” She clutched and yanked hard, pulling Adam’s power core straight out of his body.

Very Temple of Doom; she’d effectively tugged his heart right out of his chest with her bare hand. Buffy looked down at the uranium core resting on the palm of her hand as Adam groaned his last noise and collapsed to the floor in a heap. She smiled proudly to herself.

“…Buffy?” She heard Riley’s voice, and suddenly realized he was now in the room, wearied and wary.

Right… the job wasn’t over yet. Matter didn’t matter, with their power, and in one final line of Sumerian the uranium ceased to be. She lowered her hand to her side, wiping the gunk of Adam’s guts off on the side of her jeans.

She tilted her head to the side slightly as she stared at the wall where Adam had stood. Now that she could focus, it was _fascinating_ the things she knew, the things she could do. Did Giles really have _all this stuff_ inside his head? And Willow’s power - Buffy knew she hadn’t consciously even come close to tapping into it yet. And Xander - God, Xander; her heart swelled with love for him, her sweet big brother, the guy so earnest about defending her to the point of shredding apart a piece of paper that cut her finger.

(Serious levels of a protective streak, there. She was going to tease him mercilessly about that, later.)

Then it was as if Xander’s love for her, for all of the gang, overwhelmed and thrust her back full of her own self, the other three pulling apart from her like rope on the end of a spindle. Buffy stumbled, disoriented, distantly registering arms catching her but not understanding who it was or where she was in space.

Her mind quickly resettled however, and Riley let her stand on her own two feet once he was sure that she wasn’t going to fall over again.

“The others,” Buffy rushed out of the room, back the way she’d come, needing to see them with her own eyes, needing to be _sure_ they were okay and fully whole themselves, again.

“You go on, I’ll take care of Walsh.” Riley assured as he followed her, pausing in the lab room as he helped a semi-conscious Maggie Walsh up to her feet, then gripped her arms tightly in restraint.

Buffy skidded to a halt, looking at the room then.

“Did something explode in here?” She wondered.

“Something exploded in there, too,” Riley raised his eyebrow, still looking at her as if he weren’t quite sure what to make of her. “Yet there’s not a singed hair on you.”

“I’ll explain later-” She suddenly gave him a serious face, and pointed at him, “You’ve got some explaining to do, too, buddy.”

“Yes, Lucy.” He sighed demurely, but then gave her a little apologetic smile.

She didn’t wait for him as she scrambled up the ladder and ran back through the hidden hallway again, shouldering through the door and pushing passed the equipment in the way without waiting to knock for the others to move it.

“Buffy!” Giles called out her name in relief the moment he saw her, and then she was in his arms, both of them hugging one another tightly.

“Wasn’t it amazing?” Willow crowed as she and Xander gathered close, and Buffy twisted to pull them both into the hug as well, unwilling to completely let Giles go but just as needy for their hugs too.

“You were great!” Xander exclaimed, pressing his cheek against her hair for a moment, and she laughed a little as she knew that the Indiana Jones comparisons had definitely come from him.

“ _We_ were great!” She corrected as they parted, though her fist stayed clenched around Giles’ sweater for a moment. She still felt pumped full of energy, adrenalin, the Scooby vibes she’s always loved now dialed up to eleven and humming beneath her skin.

“What the hell _was_ that?” Faith wondered, sounding a little disturbed and amazed herself, and Buffy realized as she saw Wesley brushing himself off that there were a few dead demons on the floor, and the door was crushed through.

“Magic,” Willow grinned, bouncing a little on her toes. “Super cool magic!” She looked at Giles then, wondering if it was okay to be this excited about it, and he revealed a lopsided grin in return, which brightened hers.

“Scooby magic.” Xander rested his hands on his hips, nodding proudly.

“We’ve still got men out there,” Riley was calling out as he ducked into the room, pulling Walsh along behind him. They’d wrapped up her hand a little better, and she was scowling despondently as she eyeballed everyone in the room.

“You have no idea what you’ve done, you sanctimonious fools,” She couldn’t quite snarl at them, as she was half-concussed, but the seething anger was all there in her eyes. “The _work_ that you’ve ruined-! All of the lives we could have saved, having a _proper_ defense against-!”

“Bloody hell, shut up.” Giles complained as he rolled his eyes, removing his glasses and using his sleeve to wipe some of the perspiration from his face.

“Okay…” Buffy thought quickly as she splayed her palm flat against Giles’ sternum, not really noticing that she was still touching him as she ordered the others, “You guys, get to the exits, get ‘em open any way that you need to. Riley, organize the soldiers, pull ‘em back.” She looked at Giles as she said, “I’ll take point.”

He nodded, ducking his head as he tucked his glasses back over his nose.

“Are you up to this?” Willow checked as she knelt to quickly shove the extinguished candles and abandoned tarot cards back into the duffel, and slung it over her shoulder.

“I am.” Buffy assured her with a smile, though when Oz and Wesley stepped out of the way to let her through the doorway first, she tightened her fingers against Giles’ sweater again. “But one thing first-”

She yanked him down to kiss him hard, tasting sweat and what she swore to be gunpowder against his skin. She curled her tongue along his and then tasted Giles, taking her fill and unable to keep the smile from her face before pulling away from him.

He stumbled back a step, startled and gaping a little, looking out of sorts by the searing kiss.

“Now I’m ready.” Buffy smiled, and strode purposefully toward the hall just as a demon was snarling its way into the room. She knocked it out with a single punch, and headed for the busiest area of the fray.

“Yeah, I’m still not used to that.” Xander commented as the group followed her out, pretending to sound as if he were grossed out.

“That’s my girl,” Faith grinned widely before stepping forward to trade punches with another demon.

**— — —**

When all was said and done, there were only just over a dozen Initiative soldiers left standing on their own two feet. One of them included the colonel, who refused to lower his men’s weapons toward the group.

He called Riley a deserter, a traitor, and ordered him to release Walsh - which, Riley happily did, pushing her a bit roughly toward one of the other soldiers. He had no love left in him for that woman, and while Buffy wanted to empathize, she’d never had a whole lot of love for Walsh in the first place. Still, she touched his hand briefly anyway, when he stepped back beside her, and he sent her a small and understanding smile in return.

He would be okay.

Well, once that hole in his chest got stitched up.

“ _We_ killed Adam. _We_ dealt with your remaining demon problems,” Buffy gestured at the Pit around them, littered with bodies both demon and human. The only ones left standing here now, were them. It was a bit eerie, really.

“ _You_ created half this mess in the first place!” McNamara returned, his face almost turning red, livid.

“How the hell do you get to that conclusion, Stretch Armstrong?” Xander snorted, and one of the soldiers twitched his weapon more directly toward him. Buffy gave Xander a look; they were all still too much on edge to be sassing one another. Especially with guns pointed at them.

“ _She_ created this mess,” Buffy corrected, pointing at Walsh. “She’s the one with the secret lab, the secret plans, the evil monster in the basement - now dead, you’re welcome. Do you know what she was going to do?” Buffy looked from McNamara toward the other soldiers standing around him. “She was gonna use _you_ \- _these_ poor guys -” She gestured to the floor around them, “as guinea pigs. Rabbits. Spare parts, whatever. She was gonna turn you all into demons.”

Every one of them shuffled uncomfortably, looking warily at one another, and McNamara hesitated again, glancing toward Walsh. She glared, and somehow managed to straighten her shoulders and stand tall even with how wounded she was, and her hand that no doubt felt like it was on fire by now.

“You were in charge for _the interim, Colonel_.” She hissed, using McNamara’s rank as if it were an insult. “I am and have always been the functional commander of this installation. The Initiative is a _scientific facility_ , first and foremost. Meant to study, learn, and devise the proper defense against HST’s. Harness their power for _our own_ purposes. I was given _full discretion_ from the Pentagon to act as I see fit.”

“If you’re endangering our own men-!” The colonel began to threaten, and faster than Buffy thought was possible, faster than she would have expected even _had_ she thought it possible, Walsh wrapped her hands around one of the soldiers and used his too-tight grip on his weapon to shoot the colonel.

Everyone, the Initiative men and the Scoobies alike, all froze and shifted slightly away from her, shocked by the sudden attack.

She hadn’t filled McNamara with enough voltage to kill him… probably… but he’d slumped immediately to the ground, unconscious weight.

“Anyone else have a problem with that?” Walsh glared at her own men first before turning her focus back toward the gang.

Buffy clenched her jaw and shifted forward to knock Walsh unconscious herself, but Giles gripped her elbow and held her back.

When Buffy looked up at him incredulously though, his own jaw was set, and there was a steely look in his eye as he let go of Buffy and then stepped forward himself.

No, it wasn’t a steely look. It was Ripper, powerful and cocky and no holds barred. The Ripper that had stared down a full-on demon eye-to-eye, the one who’d unhesitatingly held a gun to his old best friend’s head.

When Walsh realized someone was closer to her than before, she whirled around, and actually flinched when she realized who it was. Just as quickly as she had thought she’d gained the upper hand again, she’d lost it.

Giles spoke lowly, softly, and seriously,

“You will release us, immediately, and you will take your troop of boy-toys and you will leave town. If I ever hear of the Initiative in Sunnydale again,”

“What? You'll kill us?” Walsh snorted dubiously, and Giles didn't budge, didn't blink. She suddenly didn’t look nearly as high and mighty as she had thirty seconds ago, arguing with a colonel and glaring down a whole group of men with guns in their hands.

“Shall I provide you an example?” He offered, still not raising his voice a single pitch.

Everyone stared, even more wide-eyed and silent then before, the Scoobies in amazed surprise and the military guys in confused terror.

“Oh,” Buffy shivered, and glanced around at the others. “Did anybody else just get the tinglies? I just got the tinglies.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten on Giles so much for defending her before - or maybe she was just still filled with the buzzy adrenalin from the enjoining spell - but watching him do this now was totally hot.

“Gross, Buff.” Xander grumbled with a grimace, good-naturedly playing his part.

Walsh and Giles continued to have a stare-down for a few seconds, to the point where Buffy was practically on her toes, ready to push herself between the two if necessary. She didn’t want this going _too_ far.

Giles spoke again, slowly, and in an even more dark tone than before,

“As far as you think I’m willing to go to protect that which I hold most dear, you can’t _possibly_ _fathom_ how deep that well of mine truly goes.”

His countenance didn’t seem to change at all, but Buffy couldn’t quite see directly into his eyes. Something happened, however, because Walsh visibly paled.

Maybe she was remembering whatever he’d done in her office.

“Let them go.” Walsh huffed toward her men, looking at Giles with distaste as she stepped back from him. “Gather the wounded… pick up this,” She glanced down at McNamara’s unconscious form with almost more distaste, “Get to the trucks.”

“But- ma'am-”

“Do it!” Walsh ordered angrily.

The poor soldiers, more confused than ever, jerked into action more at the sound of a barked order than necessarily because it was coming from her. Nevertheless, it was soon only Walsh standing there, leveling her glare toward Buffy.

Buffy merely raised her eyebrow, not budging. She supposed that if Walsh really did continue to fight them on this, then Giles completely deserved the chance to knock her lights out.

Giles lifted his head almost haughtily, as Walsh gave him one more dirty look, before she then spun on her heel and followed after the soldiers. They were grumbling to themselves, the nearer ones glancing toward Riley as if for confirmation, and he sent them a nod.

Walsh would be dealt with, up on level ground, by the men that knew how to deal with her.

“We’re just letting the crazy lady go?” Faith checked.

“I’ve already called the Pentagon. We’ll- …They’ll have men here within the half hour to help handle everything. She’s not going anywhere.” Riley assured. “I’m uh, Riley, by the way. Faith, I presume?” He held his hand out politely in greeting, and Faith grinned as she eyeballed him appraisingly.

“I know who you are,” She replied, far too coy, and Buffy inwardly groaned. “Well, aren’t you a tall one.” Riley blushed heavily at her tone, and darted his eyes toward the others in desperate confusion. Faith then chuckled, and pointedly out calmly, “You’re also a little too holey for my tastes.”

“What?” Riley spluttered, and then seemed to remember his gaping self-inflicted wound. “Oh, right,” He grimaced as he pulled at the hole in his shirt to look at it.

“I saw a medical box over there,” Oz piped up, gesturing over near one of the abandoned and shot up trucks before heading toward it.

“You okay, Willow?” Xander asked the red-head, who nodded as she almost nervously rubbed her hands together. It was Giles that she was watching carefully, though when Oz returned she immediately diverted her attention to him and - after he’d handed some gauze off to Riley - she leapt at him and clenched her arms around him tightly.

“Giles,” Buffy grinned carefully as she shifted forward next to him, checking him out. “Look at you, being all... rawr,” She was teasing, but she was doing so gently. He was tense, muscles stiff, in a way she hadn’t seen since they found out Ethan had been behind the band candy incident.

Giles glanced down at her, finally, and chuckled awkwardly as he scratched his hand through his hair, his posture slowly relaxing. Buffy let out a breath, relieved.

“Buffy, _please_.” Xander sighed heavily. “I'm still not quite used to this whole you-and-Giles thing - can you not flirt with him in front of me?”

“How the heck did you spend a whole summer with them?” Faith frowned in confusion, and Xander’s eyes focused distantly ahead, not on anything in particular as he replied,

“Willful ignorance, Faith. It’s called willful ignorance.”

“I think it's cute!” Willow piped up with a smile, she and Oz still hugging though they were facing the others now, and Buffy smiled up at Giles as she rested her hand on his arm.

“Hear that, Giles? Willow thinks it's cute.” He looked down at her almost shyly, which was funny to her considering the almost ass-kicking he'd been about to dish out. “Xander,” Buffy said, stretching up on her toes and sliding her hand up to Giles' shoulder, “close your eyes,”

Kissing might help him settle down further, pull him back into focus. (Well, alright, she’d come up with any of the flimsiest excuses to kiss him.) Giles didn't quite lower his head to meet her, but he did return the kiss once her lips touched his. And then in the blink of an eye he was unbridled passion, his arms around her and holding her up against him so that her toes rested atop his shoes. He could turn her inside out with that mouth of his, and he was clearly intending to do so here and now in the middle of the newly ruined Initiative and surrounded by almost the entire Scooby Gang. A kiss was rarely ever _just_ a kiss, with Giles, and this one was full of many things… unspoken apologies, quiet desires, withheld emotions.

The buzziness leftover from the spell seemed to ignite tenfold beneath her skin, and she clutched at his sweater, wanting to return the experience, to share, to climb into _his_ skin.

“ _Christ_ ,” Faith said loudly, “get _a room_ , you freaks.”

Giles gentled the kiss slowly, Buffy pleasantly surprised that he seemed to be ignoring the fact they had an audience for that very steamy moment. He let her ease back down fully onto her feet, and step off of his, and then out of his arms. She slid her hand down his sleeve as she gazed into the soft green of his eyes, and assured that he was all Giles, gave him a demure little smile.

As if she wasn’t totally out of breath, and flushed.

“Let's get out of here,” She announced to the gang, ignoring their various stares of dismay and amazement, and led the way toward the upper levels of the base with a bounce in her step and Giles’ hand in hers.

**— — —**

They went to Giles’ place first, to return the weapons and supplies and check in with Anya and Tara. Wesley and Faith returned to their hotel, with promises to meet up again tomorrow.

“Oh, thank God you’re not dead!” Anya had crowed and leapt at Xander the moment he’d stepped through the door, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He’d managed to catch her, just, and they hugged tightly, burrowing their heads against one another’s necks.

“So it worked?” Tara guessed with a hesitant smile, standing from Giles’ desk, and Willow nodded as she and Oz approached, before beginning to excitedly babble about the spell and how it’d felt.

Buffy helped Giles put the weapons away as the Scoobies talked excitedly amongst one another, a swelling, powerful sense of peace filling her chest. It was almost overwhelming.

“Kinda hard to believe it’s all over, now.” She mused, just to Giles. He brushed his fingers against her knuckles after he’d set a crossbow back into the trunk.

“Adam, Walsh, and the entire Initiative in one fell swoop. It is a bit hard to believe.” He admitted. “How is Riley?” They’d had a short talk, above ground, as the gang left the dorm building and the others prepared to wait for the government guys to show up.

“Better, I think.” She pulled the knife sheath from her boot and returned it to the trunk as well. “Turns out when they’d stitched him up after getting skewered by Adam, they decided to leave a little something inside of him too. Some kind of chip connected to his nervous system. Adam had been controlling him for the past couple of days.” Which explained a lot.

“I wonder if his superiors will take it easy on him.” Giles mused, and Buffy shrugged.

“He’s pretty sure he’s gonna get discharged, but he’s gonna testify against Walsh and tell them everything he knows about Adam and project 314, so he thinks it’ll be honorable. Graham and the other guys’ll have his back, too.”

“He’ll be gone for a while, I imagine.” Giles’ tone was difficult to read as he closed the weapons chest, and Buffy gave him a wry look.

“I’m sure you’re ecstatic about that.”

“Buffy,”

“Look, I get it. I have my possessive moments over you, too.” She told him, and he’d ducked his head, so she put her hand on his cheek to get him to look at her. “But it’s kind of tiring rehashing the same thing over and over again, don’t ya think?” She pointed out, gently reproving, and he winced.

“It was the alcohol, mostly - I know Riley is a respectful young lad. I was…”

“You were in a mood.” Buffy said succinctly. “You were angry with Walsh, maybe with yourself, and lashed out at what was available: me.”

“That’s not any excuse.” He berated himself, and Buffy nodded.

“No.” She agreed, and then she said, “It didn’t work, either.”

“Sort of did,” He winced again, and touched his opposite cheek. Buffy smiled and leaned forward to brush her lips against it. “Wanted you to hit me.” He admitted.

“Young-Giles in a bar fight?” Buffy remembered the stories he’d told her, about his years as a trouble-maker even before the demon mess, about earning the nickname of Ripper.

“Catharsis.” He nodded. _‘It was a way to hurt myself without, well, hurting myself.’_ Ripper had definitely been an emotional mess, especially by the time he’d returned back to the Council with his tail between his legs.

Buffy sighed quietly as she looked at Giles, and rubbed her thumb against the curve of his cheek. He didn’t appear to be as flustered as he’d been right after the spell had finished, but he still looked tired. They were all a bit of a mess right now, probably.

“Hey, uh, we’re gonna head back to my place,” Xander announced, drawing Buffy’s attention to the rest of the room. He had his arm around Anya’s shoulders, and she was nestled into his side, impatiently fingering the front of his sweater. “I need a shower. Smell like demon nasty, sweat, and… gunpowder…” Xander tugged up the collar of his shirt and sniffed at it, then grimaced.

“Meet up at my mom’s?” Buffy suggested, lowering her hand from Giles’ face and straightening back up to her feet. She suddenly felt anxious about the idea of them being too far away… at least right now. She wanted them to stay close. “Stopped an apocalypse, you know the drill-” She tried to sound casual about it. Xander lit up and finished,

“Movie night!” He crowed excitedly, but Anya made a disappointed face.

“But I wanna-”

“Don’t worry,” Xander quickly interrupted her before she could say anything inappropriate, “I’ll need to grab some movies from home, anyway. And I really do wanna, uh, freshen up.” His fingers twitched around Anya’s shoulders, and she smiled happily and nodded in acceptance.

“I’ll help.” She announced, and everyone else snorted and snickered and politely avoided looking directly at Xander’s blushing face.

“It’ll give me time to warn Mom,” Buffy nodded, too, and tried to relax again. She turned hopeful looks toward the others, hoping she didn’t come across as desperate as she waited for them to think it over.

“I’ve got a pretty important test tomorrow, actually,” Tara winced. “It’s pretty late already. B-but maybe… next time?”

“Absolutely.” Buffy assured her. “And I mean, we could have a girl’s night in the dorm, maybe during finals week? As a study break.” Tara smiled, pleased by the offer, and nodded. As she headed for the door, though, Buffy leapt forward and touched her arm to stop her. “Tara?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh… thanks.” Buffy wasn’t really sure how to express that she was a part of the Scoobies, the ‘Slayerettes’, too. It’s not like she’d voted anyone in or out - they’d made themselves, and it’d just sort of happened. Buffy then just decided to hug her, quickly but firmly, long enough until Tara returned it. When they parted, Tara was blushing a little in embarrassment but smiling even wider.

“I’m glad I could help.” Tara murmured, and glanced over Buffy’s shoulder, before leaning slightly toward her and whispering, “He’s all purpley, too.”

“Huh?” Buffy blurted, and then immediately flushed. Tara’s smile turned into a little grin for a moment, and then she slipped out of the apartment. Buffy turned back around to find all of them watching her, pleased approval on their faces. “What?” She frowned defensively, and brushed her hair behind her ear, trying and failing not to keep darting her eyes in Giles’ direction.

“She’s different,” Oz mused, and then nodded definitively. “I like her.”

“What did she mean by ‘purpley’?” Xander wondered, having been close enough to hear that, and Willow snorted and giggled, covering her mouth as Buffy gave her a warning look.

“Buffy’s having lusty wrong feelings!” She cooed teasingly, and both Oz and Giles raised their eyebrows.

“No I’m not!” Buffy denied, flushing, and Willow lifted her hands up apologetically.

“No, I suppose you’re not,” She agreed, still grinning, but Buffy was watching Giles now as he took his glasses off and held them out to squint at them, tugging his handkerchief from his pocket to clean them.

“Oh, I _so_ am,” Buffy sighed in admittance, and Giles startled, giving her a look of dismay for her to announce that in front of their friends.

“Annnd, that’s our cue,” Xander declared, sending Buffy a bemused smile. “See you at the house in a bit, Buff.” He and Anya slipped around her out the door.

“No, I mean, they’re not _wrong_ feelings, ‘cause there’s no wrong.” Willow clarified herself, with a happy smile. “You’re both adults, and in love, and aren’t fighting anymore!” Then she paused and her smile wavered a little. “You aren’t fighting anymore, right?”

“Willow.” Buffy gave her a wry, amused look, and Willow grinned.

“That’s right. You’ve smoochied like twenty times since then. Lusty thoughts away!” She waved her hand in the air like she was throwing glitter or something.

“Can we please discuss something else?” Giles complained, rubbing his fingers against his eyes.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ve got lusty thoughts too!” Willow blurted, and Buffy raised her eyebrows at her. “I mean- not about _Giles_ ,” She laughed, sort of too loudly and awkwardly. “Of course not about Giles. Not that Giles isn’t lusty-thoughtable. Not that I’ve considered it!”

“And I believe this is _our_ cue” Oz announced in amusement over Willow’s continued babbling, and curled his arm around her waist to guide her toward the door. When she said something including his name, he laughed and blushed and tucked his nose into her hair. “Let’s keep our lusty thoughts to ourselves, hey?” He advised gently, and she immediately drifted quiet, turning about as deep red as her hair.

“You’re supposed to stop me way before that,” She grumbled, tucking her laptop beneath her arm as they passed the desk.

Giles was staring at Buffy, inscrutable, now left alone in the suddenly too-quiet apartment.

“How… did that conversation just happen?” He wondered carefully, clearly unsure whether or not he actually wanted the answer.

“I want to change, too,” Buffy blurted. She still smelled like battle, and that did not make for good smoochies now that they were home. She turned and darted up the stairs, not giving Giles a chance to call dibs first, and dug through her drawer until she found her black hoodie and a pair of jeans. She had fresh undies and socks, too, but no other bra, but after glancing toward the stairs again she shrugged, and zipped her hoodie up high enough that no one would notice she wore nothing underneath it.

When she skipped back down the stairs, Giles was returning from the bathroom looking significantly refreshed. She decided that she hadn’t much gotten over her lusty thoughts, yet.

“I’ll change as well, and then we can drive over?” He offered, and Buffy hesitated.

“Can we walk?” She asked hopefully, thinking of all the places between his house and hers where they could duck away for a little fondling, and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a rental, Buffy - if you really don’t like it, then,”

“The walk will give me more time to think about what I’m gonna tell Mom!” She insisted. His rental car was… fine… just not all that comfortable. And it smelled funny. She wished he would just decide to buy one already - he was still mourning that old metal deathtrap way too much.

“Have you told her anything about the Initiative? Adam?” He wondered as he headed up to his room, and Buffy grimaced.

“Not really… and uh… she doesn’t exactly know how, um, close we’ve gotten, either.”

“Bloody hell.” He grumbled to himself from the loft, and then sighed more loudly, “Must she know at all?”

“Well, it’s not something I wanna sit down and have a detailed conversation with her about,” Buffy huffed.

“Thank God.” He muttered, which she still heard.

“But being my Mom, don’t you think she might have something to say about it?” Buffy figured. “If she’s gonna demand to give me the safe sex talk - _again_ \- then I wanna make sure it’s not gonna happen in front of all my friends!”

When he rejoined her downstairs, he was clad in a black sweater and his dark corduroys, and Buffy bit her lip as she eyed him.

“Maybe we can drive? Then we’d have a little more smoochy time now, before-”

“Oh, no,” Giles held a hand out in warning and darted around the other side of his desk, avoiding her advance toward him. “If you kiss me again, Buffy, we are not leaving this house tonight.”

She considered that, and he gave her a look.

“What about the others?” He reminded her. “They all want a movie night.”

“Yeah,” She admitted, deflating. “It’s the spell, isn’t it? I want my Scooby time.”

“Quite likely,” Giles nodded, lowering his arm and relaxing, though he shifted to continue keeping his distance as Buffy moved closer to his desk to reach the phone. “Remnants of the enjoining spell.”

“After movie night, though?” Buffy glanced up from dialing to raise her eyebrow at him. “We’ll do a little _enjoining_ of our own?”

“Buffy,” Giles groaned, pressing his fingers against his eyes again as he rested his other hand on the opposite end of the desk, and Buffy grinned.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey Mom, it’s me,” Buffy answered, giving Giles a wink before purposely eyeing him up and down, slowly.

‘Stop that.’ He mouthed at her warningly, and she grinned wider.

_“Buffy! Goodness, I was wondering- well, it’s been a while since you’ve- oh, I don’t want to be a helicopter Mom, but I’ve-”_ Her chuckle quieted, and then she worried, _“Is everything alright?”_

“I know it’s been a while,” Buffy finally gave Giles some reprieve and turned slightly away from him as she grimaced apologetically for her mother. “Everything’s okay… now. I just wanted to- well, the gang wanted a movie night, and I wondered if we could do it at the house? And you and I could catch up, too?”

_“I would love that.”_ Joyce answered warmly. _“And of course your friends are always welcome, as well. In fact, I could make a-”_

“Oh no, don’t worry about making anything!” Buffy quickly stopped her mother. “We’ll probably just do the usual; popcorn, snacks, sugary drinks…”

_“When will you be here?”_

“Giles and I are walking over in a couple minutes, and the others will meet us.”

_“Giles and you, huh,”_

“What?” Buffy frowned. Her mother sounded sort of… aloof.

_“Oh, nothing, nothing. I’m just happy that it seems the new school year hasn’t put a strain between you two.”_

“It… hasn’t.” Buffy replied haltingly, now looking at Giles with an uncomfortable expression, and he tilted his head curiously. “It hasn’t between us either, has it?” Buffy then asked quickly, wanting to change the focus of conversation, and Joyce made a soothing noise.

_“Of course it hasn’t, dear. I’ve missed you, of course, but I’m your mother. I love you. This is your time to grow into your own self… to have your space from your parents.”_

“I love you too, Mom.” Buffy smiled warmly. “I’ll be there soon, ‘kay?”

_“Alright honey. See you soon.”_

Buffy hung up the phone, and Giles tucked his hands into his pockets.

“All well?” He checked, and Buffy hesitated.

“I probably shouldn’t tell her about you turning into a demon and me stabbing you in the chest and almost killing you.” Buffy mused, and Giles blinked.

“I… should hope that doesn’t come up in casual conversation.” He agreed. She grinned and added,

“Especially since right after that, we-”

“Buffy, _have_ some pity,” He groaned and stepped backward toward the door, opening it up behind him. “I’m only a man.”

“ _Only_ , nothing!” Buffy scoffed, and when she made to follow him to the door, he skirted out and to the side, giving her more than enough space to step out into the courtyard. “I wasn’t gonna jump you,” Buffy protested in amusement, and watched the way the muscles in his jaw tightened as he focused on locking his door.

“At this point it’s not you I’m concerned with doing the jumping,” He muttered, and she giggled.

**... ... ...**

Buffy had fully caught Joyce up to speed - about the apocalyptic stuff, anyhow, and about her classes - by the time Willow, Xander, and Oz arrived, in fresh clothes and sans Anya.

Apparently, they’d all managed some of their own smoochy time with their lovers, and were fully focused and excited for some Scooby time. Buffy tilted her chin down to give Giles a look at that, and he tugged off his glasses to clean them unnecessarily.

“Anya really doesn't mind,” Xander assured, totally missing what was going on between Buffy and Giles. “Especially after I promised her that we could try the-” Oz cleared his throat, and Xander stopped suddenly. “The uh, couple’s night at the putt-putt course this weekend.” Willow grinned in amusement at him.

“I’ve just mixed up some fruit punch for you all,” Joyce announced as she came through the dining room to join their gathering in the foyer. “Buffy insisted I not go out of my way, so the kitchen is yours… just clean up after yourselves if you make a mess, okay?”

“Joyce for President!” Xander crowed, bowing as low as he could with his armful of vhs tapes.

“She also insisted the punch be raspberry, so…” Joyce made a face as if the flavor wasn’t her first choice, and as Xander straightened, he glanced toward Giles, whose expression had brightened significantly.

Buffy was looking at him, too, of course, pleased that he liked the choice. She’d done it for him.

“Snackage! Let’s help, Oz.” Willow took his hand and practically dragged him to the kitchen as Xander slipped around them to relieve his armload of movies on the coffee table.

“Watcher’s pet,” Xander whispered loudly, teasing.

Giles gave Buffy a little smile as he put his glasses back on, and she ducked her head to hide her own, following after Oz and Willow before her mom got any ideas about asking relationship-type questions.

“Oh, let me show you which dishes you can use!” Joyce called out, going back to the kitchen as well, and Buffy was surprised that Xander, out of all of them, hadn’t immediately followed suit.

She doubled back toward the dining room, but hesitated behind the wall when she heard Xander’s lowered tones. There was only one topic she could think of that interested Xander more than food, and she grimaced a little. Maybe he’d wanted to talk to Giles about guy stuff or something - maybe she shouldn’t listen in.

“So I know I don’t talk about the parental units much…” Xander’s voice was soft, hesitant, and Buffy winced in sympathy.

She knew his home life had been pretty shitty since at least the last few years, and she desperately wished she could do something about it. Where could she begin, though? She was nineteen years old and living in a girls-only dorm room - even being the Slayer couldn’t help, here, because his parents were human and had to fall under human law.

“I… understand it’s difficult at home,” Giles said consolingly, giving him a way out of the conversation if he wanted.

“It is. More often than not.” Xander sounded determined, and took a short breath before continuing in a firm tone, “Both of my parents are alcoholics. My mom, she just tends to forget she’s got a son. But my dad… that’s when he _remembers_. And remembers how disappointing that son is.”

“Xander-”

“Nah, I’m not here for pity. I’m here to tell you - well, I know you’re not on that level. I know you can have a drink at the end of a day and be fine. But I also know you can drink _too much_ when you’re pissed at yourself, or feeling sorry for yourself, and then you’re _different_. You don’t think rationally. You’re kind of an asshole.”

Buffy widened her eyes in surprise. Xander was confronting Giles about his drinking? Willow must’ve told him about what she’d walked in on earlier. Buffy nibbled her bottom lip for a moment, thinking. Giles loved Xander, in his own way, but he didn’t like talking about his drinking. She risked a peek around the corner, wondering how he was going to respond. She hoped gently; Xander’s heart was in the right place, and honestly… he probably had more of a right to do this than any of them.

Xander was standing beside the coffee table, his hands tucked into his pockets, and Giles was across from him near the chair, standing stiffly and frowning. Xander shook his head, and pointed toward him before he could speak,

“Look, I’m just sayin’, I don’t want you becoming somebody else, somebody like my dad. You’re kind of a cool guy, sometimes, and I look up to you.” He was clearly trying to, in classic teenage fashion, underscore the depth of his words by sounding lazily casual and almost flippant. Giles’ expression completely changed, then, into something soft, surprised, and more emotional. “When you’re not being a super _nerd_ , anyway.” Xander added with a nervous chuckle, glancing away, uncomfortable though obviously earnest.

Buffy touched her fingers to her mouth, hiding any noise that wanted to come out as she felt her chest swell once again with emotion for him - for both of them. She knew it had to be in part to the spell they were all still reeling a bit from; they’d been connected to one another in a deep and powerful way. It only made sense that they were feeling more strongly, perhaps more emotionally vulnerable.

“Just… Scooby to Scooby?” Xander continued, hesitantly looking toward him again. “Be careful with that? ‘Cause one of these days you might say something that’ll be… hard to forget.”

“I…” Giles hesitated and then changed course, “Th-thank you, Xander,” He spoke softly as he removed his glasses from his face again, looking down as he took his time to clean them. “I’ve already made my apologies with Buffy, but I should apologize to you, as well.”

“Me?” Xander wondered, confused.

“I shouldn’t have gotten drunk like that, and I shouldn’t have said things that I didn’t mean. I’m sorry that I did… and that you saw even a part of it. You shouldn’t have to ever worry - well, what I mean is, I want - my home, I mean, for you…” Giles sighed at himself for his stuttering, and faced Xander as he said, “My home is always a safe place for you. Should you ever need one, for _any_ reason.”

They were both silent for a beat, and as Buffy brushed at the tear in her eye, Xander suddenly dove forward and wrapped his arms around Giles, hugging him tightly. Giles seemed startled at first, but soon hugged him back, rubbing his shoulder a little. They even held the hug for a moment, but then Xander was stepping back and clearing his throat and quickly wiping his hand across his face. Giles cleared his throat as well and tucked his glasses back on, both of them trying to act nonchalant about the emotional moment.

“Thanks, Giles.” Xander said, his voice only slightly unsteady, and then he grinned and joked, “But at the rate you’re goin’ replacing the doors and windows, I might be safer in Spike’s old crypt!”

Giles chuckled a little, going along with the lighter tone in conversation.

“Yes, quite.”

Xander stepped back closer to his pile of movies, and began to organize them in some fashion, seemingly content until he vocally grimaced.

“Less chance catching you and Buff sucking face, there, too.”

Giles made an affronted noise, and opened his mouth to defend himself but didn’t immediately speak. Eventually he simply grumbled,

“I do not ‘suck face’,” and began to clean his glasses again.

“Sure, G-man,” Xander sounded amused, and he straightened and stepped toward the doorway, likely headed for the kitchen. Buffy quickly ducked back around into the dining room so she wouldn’t be caught spying. “Now - I must answer the call.”

“Don’t call me that.” Giles immediately returned, and then hesitated, “The… call?”

“Of the kernel. It’s a very serious business, you know, turning little seeds of corn into delicious fluffy, buttery, munches of goodness.”

“…Of course.”

When she heard Xander’s footsteps start to enter the dining room, she stepped out and bumped into him, trying to act like she was just coming from the kitchen, though she wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him yet. She really wanted to just give him a big hug, but she wasn’t sure if he would just be embarrassed about discovering that she’d overheard all of that.

“Oh! Slow down there, Buff,” He was grinning as he put his hands on her shoulders to guide her around him as he stepped to the side. He glanced at her empty hands and then winked at her. “I’ll hold them off for a few minutes.”

“Huh?” She blurted, confused, and then realized that he thought she was sneaking back for some Giles-time to herself. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”

He patted her shoulder and then pushed through the door into the kitchen, crowing something about being the Snack-Master, and Buffy schooled her expression before returning to the living room.

Giles had sat down at the end of the couch and was rubbing his hand over his face with a soft sigh. She quietly approached until she could plop down onto the seat next to him, startling him. Realizing it was her, he gave her a dirty look as he tucked his glasses back onto his nose.

“Hi,” She murmured, shifting even closer and sliding a hand over his thigh. He suddenly looked nervous as he leaned slightly away, and glanced toward the doorway where the others had disappeared.

“Buffy,” He warned, facing her again, freezing when she braced both hands on his thigh and leaned in until they were nose-to-nose. He stared at her stoically, until his eyes eventually drifted down toward her mouth. Buffy smiled at that, and he groaned quietly. “Oh, bugger it,”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him as he leaned back against the arm of the couch, parting his lips beneath hers as they kissed deeply and slowly. She could tell that he was giving her another apology, here, and she let him because she felt that he needed it more than she did. She wriggled over him happily, straddling his nearest leg and purposely leaning some of her weight onto the thigh between his. She could feel a certain something in his pants stirring, and she giggled quietly, stroking her fingertips against his neck approvingly.

Their kiss became more libidinous and they made out like that for a number of minutes, her thigh rubbing occasionally over his growing bulge, his hand tucked between them against her breast. She soon felt like her blood was sizzling within her veins. His little hums of pleasure and approval were making her quiver, and she answered with a soft moan of her own.

“Shh,” He chuckled lowly, sucking soft kisses on her lips until they both suddenly registered the others’ voices more clearly again.

“So, Tibet was your favorite?” Joyce wondered, and her voice sent a sharp jolt of adrenaline through the both of them.

Giles and Buffy darted apart; he slid himself into the chair beside the couch faster than Buffy’d seen him move in some time, and she threw a pillow at him before quickly sitting up in the space he’d abandoned and combing her loose bits of hair behind her ears.

“Well, it’s where I stayed the longest.” Oz answered her as they came down the hallway. “This warlock in Romania sent me to the monks there to learn some mediation techniques. Very intense. All about keeping your inner cool.”

“Oh good, ‘cause you were such a spaz before.” Willow joked, grinning as she led the group into the dining room, none of them seeming to notice Buffy’s or Giles’ ruffled appearance.

“Dinner is served!” Xander announced with a large bowl of popcorn in his hands. “And my very own recipe.”

“Oh! You pushed the button on the microwave that says ‘popcorn’?” Willow teased as she grabbed a handful from the proffered bowl.

“Actually I pushed ‘defrost’, but um, Joyce was there in the clinch.” Xander replied back, stuffing some warm buttery kernels into his own mouth as he grinned at Buffy’s mom, who was carrying a bowl of corn nuts in one hand and a pitcher of juice in the other. Willow and Oz both set down the glasses they’d been carrying, and plopped themselves onto the couch next to Buffy, cuddling up together immediately.

“Hey,” Willow frowned a little as she noticed the seating situation. “Oz and I could share the chair if you want, Giles,” She offered.

“No, no, I’m alright.” He promised her quickly, clearing his throat a little as he tried to act casual about the pillow over his lap. Joyce held out the bowl of corn nuts, and he hesitantly accepted a handful of them.

“It’s all good, Will,” Buffy told her best friend as she curled her feet up on the cushion, leaning against the arm as she tucked a blanket around her legs. “You and Oz have lots of cuddle-time to catch up on.”

“And you two don’t?” Joyce quipped lightly as she set the bowl on the table before pouring them all a glass of juice.

“Not nearly,” Xander snorted, and then immediately sobered at Buffy’s look. He glanced at Joyce, laughed awkwardly, and then stuffed another mouthful of popcorn into his mouth. “Let the vidfest begin!” He crowed, putting the bowl on the table and settling himself on the floor beside it, where he’d piled up his stack of vhs tapes.

“Well,” Joyce mused, returning the pitcher to the table and stepping back with something like an amused smile. “I’ll leave you all to it,”

“You’re s-sure you won’t join us?” Giles asked politely, and Joyce shook her head.

“It’s been a long week at the studio; I’m tired. I can’t believe _you’re_ not exhausted. Have you even slept, since…” She trailed off, amazed as she thought over what they had told her earlier.

“Still feel a little bit too wired.” Giles admitted, then smiled excitedly as he noticed the package of custard creme biscuits on the table, and leaned forward to snag a couple. “Ooh,”

“Mm,” Willow made a noise of agreement around her mouthful of juice, swallowing as she nodded, “Yeah, that spell - that was powerful,”

“Don’t think I _could_ sleep.” Buffy added, though admittedly most of that had to do with horniness, at the moment.

“Well, we got plenty of vid.” Xander pointed out. “And I’m putting in a preemptive bid for ‘Apocalypse Now’, huh?”

“Did you get anything less Heart-of-Darkness-y?” Willow frowned as she unfolded a throw blanket over her and her lover’s legs.

“‘Apocalypse Now’ is a gay romp.” Xander defended. “It’s the feel-good movie of whatever year it was.” Oz was quiet, choosing to stay out of the debate as he helped Willow with the blanket.

“What else?” Buffy asked dryly of Xander’s movie collection.

“Don’t worry,” Xander rolled his eyes and set that vhs to the side. “Got plenty of chick and British-guy flicks, too. These puppies should last us all night.”

Joyce was smiling at them with fond bemusement as she went up the stairs, though not without shooting Buffy one more ‘Mom warning look’ before she was out of sight. Buffy made a defensive face, but then bit her lip as she shifted on the couch, and glanced toward Giles again.

He’d split one of his cookies in half and was licking off the creamy center, his eyes closed in happiness. Buffy stared at him, completely ignoring everyone else’s conversation as she watched him. That tongue of his was _sinful_ , honestly, and when he opened his eyes and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, he met her gaze and quirked a smile as he chewed.

She gaped at him in indignation, realizing he’d done that on purpose, and quick as a flash she yanked the pillow off of his lap and tossed it at Xander. Giles widened his eyes in concern and shifted immediately, sitting forward over his knees in the guise of reaching for his glass, one arm covering his lap.

“Here, Xan, at least pillow up so you’re comfy down there,” Buffy pretended as if she’d done that entirely for Xander’s benefit, not at all to make Giles uncomfortable. Xander, oblivious, thanked her as he arranged his ‘nest’ of pillows and blankets against the edge of the couch near Oz’s feet.

Giles let out a quiet breath and slowly settled back into the chair again, which Buffy disappointingly figured meant that he didn’t have a boner anymore. Still, she grinned cheekily at him for a moment before grabbing some more popcorn and relaxing into her corner of the couch.

As Xander got the movie started, Giles shifted in his seat a bit so that he could comfortably reach across the arm of the chair to hold onto Buffy’s hand atop the couch cushion. She tangled their fingers together and brushed her thumb against his knuckles, smiling happily to herself as she tucked her toes against Willow’s hip.

Finally, nothing to worry about in the immediate future, aside from the year’s finals and maybe the usual vampire - and all her Scoobies were safe and sound around her.

**— — —**

“You have to stop thinking.” Giles murmured, shifting his fingers just so, to keep the fob watch swinging on its chain at a steady pace. “Let it wash over you.”

They were training, having cleared the area as per usual when doing so in his apartment. Had he been paying attention, he would have realized that his entire ground level was completely devoid of anything - but he was entirely focused on his Slayer. Meditation was important. It required his utmost focus, as well as hers.

Buffy sat dutifully in the single chair left in the room, though glanced up at him, away from the watch. Her expression hinted toward coy, and he restrained himself from pursing his lips in amused annoyance. He must keep calm, to keep her calm. His bed was still upstairs, and if they became too distracted… no, no - they were already beyond the time to play. Now was the time for duty.

“Don’t you think it’s a little old-fashioned?”

“This is the way women and men have behaved since the beginning, before time.” He wondered why he’d said that. That wasn’t part of the meditation phrases he’d read from the book.

He smoothly knelt down before her on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand in place of the watch chain. Buffy’s eyes danced, and she laughed joyously.

**... ... ...**

Giles read through one of his older journal entries as Buffy lounged across his couch, eyebrow-deep in one of his few English-written demonographies. He was loath to interrupt her doing research of her own volition, as rare as it was, but there was something he’d written down a little while ago that made him curious.

“Buffy, may I ask a question?”

“You mean aside from that one?” She quipped without moving, and he rolled his eyes, though decided to ignore that invitation for a snarky response.

“You once told me that you get, um, ‘feisty’ if too many patrols end with the vampire escaping. Can you expand on that?”

She slowly lowered the book to her lap as she sat up and turned to stare at him over the back of the couch. He furrowed his brow at her when she didn’t immediately answer.

“Feisty, Giles.” She repeated a bit pointedly, and he blinked, not following. “I thought you got the idea after the first time I told you?”

He frowned back down at his journal, trying to recall. The first time she’d told him… Ah.

_‘Note: There is a particular… voraciousness in her tonight.’_

Giles blushed and stammered wordlessly for a moment, taking off his glasses and cleaning them so he wouldn’t ponder over that particular line too much, or the rather lovely memories it brought forth.

“Well… yes,” He eventually managed to admit. “I assumed that was just… because we had been…”

“Horny for each other and not doing anything about it?” Buffy, ever succinct, raised her eyebrow and he felt his flush burn anew. “That certainly didn’t help, but, no, I… I’m always left a bit anxious…” She paused, and then stood from the couch and walked around it. “Frustrated…” Giles subconsciously dropped his glasses to his desk, watching the way she sidled toward him. “Unsatisfied.” By this point her tone had lowered and changed entirely, and his libido completely overtook his curiosity. “I’m filled with this… desire,” Buffy continued to explain, clearly picking her words purposefully.

He felt his pulse quicken anyway, as she stopped just in front of his turned chair, her knees touching his.

“Hunger.” She slid her fingers over his knee, and he swallowed deeply, glancing down at it. “Sometimes, it’s just for food,” She added more lightly. “I eat like I haven’t eaten all day, and then I can go to sleep. But sometimes…” She trailed off, her dancing fingers pausing halfway up his thigh, and he darted his gaze back up to her face. Her eyes drifted slowly down his body, lingering below his belt before rising back up to meet his. Just as slowly, she gave him a lopsided grin, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Yes?” He urged her to continue speaking, entirely enthralled by her.

“Sometimes,” She purred, lifting the hem of her dress so she could straddle his lap, “I want to be filled with something else,” She whispered into his ear as she settled over his groin and rocked her hips slowly. He groaned and grabbed onto her hips to encourage the movement.

“I am not writing that in my journal,” He informed her breathlessly, at least remembering to inhale now, before he embarrassingly passed out.

“No time,” She continued to whisper as she began nibbling on his ear, and he moaned with pleasure. “We should finish before she comes.”

“B-before who?” He wondered distantly, whimpering a little when she licked the curve of his ear.

**... ... ...**

Buffy took her time brushing her hair at the vanity, preparing for bed. Giles watched her as he finished buttoning up his pajama shirt, contentment filling him as he turned the bedsheets down and relaxed against the headboard on his side of the mattress. She met his gaze in the mirror, and smiled softly at him.

“Your hair hasn’t been this long in a while.” He commented.

“Or this _beautiful_ without a lotta work!” She noted in amazement, turning her head slightly to check out her reflection. “Maybe there are some bonuses with all these crazy hormones, after all.”

“Untrue.” He huffed. “You are always beautiful.”

“Even covered in bodily fluids?” She grimaced, and he allowed the licentious smile to curve his lips.

“ _Especially_ then… in certain cases.”

“ _Giles_!” She laughed in shock and delight, her cheeks turning slightly red, and he patted the bed as she set her brush down.

He loved these soft, domestic moments, that confirmed for him that he wanted to share these little moments with Buffy, always. Perhaps they couldn’t have moments like these often… but he didn’t see that as a downside. It just made them all the more special; he never took _anything_ for granted.

He frowned a little as he thought he heard a noise downstairs, but then Buffy was sliding into the bed next to him and pressing her warmth against his, her smile against his mouth, and he thought of nothing else.

**... ... ...**

Giles relaxed on the couch with Buffy, his head in her lap while she watched the television. He was dozing as she leisurely combed her fingers through his hair.

“Nothing could make me happier than I am in this very moment.” He oozed contentment. It was summertime, which meant little-to-no vampire activity, and _lots_ of extra time with his lover. Time for them to just… be.

“Nothing?” Buffy asked lightly, and he twisted a little to look up at her, seeing her brow arched playfully. He hesitated, then began,

“Well, perhaps one-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish before quickly bending over to plant her lips on his, and he laughed delightedly against her mouth before pushing himself up so that he could wrap his arms around her. They rearranged themselves easily, until he was sitting with his back against the cushion and Buffy was straddled atop his lap.

When their mouths parted for a few moments of air, he carded both hands into her hair, guiding it away from her face before burying his fingers in the warm, gentle waves. He smiled at her, knowing it was a totally besotted expression, but he couldn’t help it. She smiled back, and wriggled her hips until they were more aligned with his.

He rumbled out a noise of pleasure as her heat settled over the groin of his jeans, and she giggled against his lips when she felt him stirring. The minx had apparently not forgotten his once-admittance of often going commando in jeans.

“There’s someone here with us,” Giles worried, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end in a way that had nothing to do with arousal. Buffy slowly rolled her body against his, nuzzling his ear.

“It’s okay, they’re asleep,” She promised, her breath hot on his skin. He moaned, blinking slowly, and suddenly they weren’t on his couch but in the large recliner at her house, and Willow, Oz, and Xander were all asleep on the other side of the room.

A part of Giles knew that they hadn’t been who’d he’d meant, but then Buffy was kissing him slowly and lingering again, and he decided to focus on her for a while.

Neither of them reacted at all to the sound of an animalistic shriek of frustration.

**... ... ...**

They walked hand-in-hand through the crowd, not thinking once about the public display of affection as they kept their eyes on the girls.

“Oh! This one looks fun,” Buffy pulled him to a stop at one of the stalls, and Anya groaned loudly.

“This is so dumb. Why are we here? These are boring!” She whined.

“I think it looks cool,” Tara piped up, sharing a warm smile with Buffy as the two of them stepped up to the counter. There was a basket of over-sized tennis balls sitting on top, and Buffy began to show Tara how to aim and properly throw one at the animatronic vampire a few feet away across from them.

“Anya, why can’t you be more like Tara,” Giles chided. “Look how sweet and quiet she is.” Then, he muttered under his breath, “Honestly, I don’t know where you get it.”

“I heard that,” Buffy drolled over her shoulder, giving him a brief look. He gave her an innocent, than mildly apologetic, expression.

“Why don’t we stop at the sweets cart after this, hm?” Giles then offered Anya, who considered that seriously before nodding, her disposition completely relaxing.

“Alright.” She stuck her hands in her pockets as she watched the other two ladies, unconsciously mirroring Giles’ stance exactly.

“You’re-” Giles started, just as Tara ‘threw’ the first ball. She missed the ‘vampire’ entirely. “-sticking out your elbow.” He sighed, and Buffy gave him another warning look.

“I can teach the moves, too.” She huffed defensively. “You just watch, Watcher.”

“Alright,” He replied lightly, conceding, not meaning to step on her toes. Sure enough, Tara bullseyed the next throw. She jumped up and down excitedly, turning back toward Giles for approval. He smiled hesitantly as Buffy rubbed her shoulder encouragingly.

“Oh look!” Buffy noticed the stall attendant handing over a stick of cotton candy, and she took it from him to pass to Tara. “Mom Tax!” She crowed as she snagged a large chunk and stuffed it into her mouth.

“Hey!” Tara protested, but was all smiles as she took the prize for herself and pulled out a more bite-sized chunk of fluff.

“My turn for candy now, right?” Anya begged, tugging on Giles’ sleeve, and he nodded.

“Yes, yes, let’s go,” He sighed, and gave Buffy a look as they walked shoulder-to-shoulder behind the girls again. “Honestly, Buffy - you’ve got that all over your face,” He sighed in amused exasperation at her, but when she turned to grin up at him, he startled.

It wasn’t cotton candy on her face, but some kind of mud… something that niggled at the back of his mind, something familiar.

“I know you…” He said, distantly. He frowned, and then she was gone. They were all gone; he was surrounded by strangers - no, students. High school students. He was…

**... ... ...**

…In the hallway, at Sunnydale High. Walking toward the library doors, behind which he could already hear faint music drifting out.

He sighed heavily, taking a moment before pushing his way through the swinging doors.

“Honestly, Buffy, must we have this noise?”

“We must!” She quipped back, grinning as she didn’t lose a step with her jump rope, skipping it at a fairly steady pace with the beat of the music. He was surprised to find that it wasn’t her usual ‘techno-whatever’, but something he was actually familiar with.

In a significantly better mood, he whistled along to ‘Uptown Girl’ as he took his bag into his office and shrugged out of his coat, preparing to train with her.

It didn’t occur to him at all that she was obviously too old to be a student, that this library was in reality nothing more scarred, skeletal remains, or that a fully-human Adam sat at the research table, brow furrowed as he intently studied the insert to the Billy Joel CD.

“I’m culturing him,” Buffy explained breathily as she eased to a stop and folded up the jump rope, as Giles rejoined them and secured his shirtsleeves up by his elbows. She was clearly well-warmed up; she had a nice sheen of perspiration already, and he watched indulgently as a bead of sweat glistened down her neck.

“I’m aware,” Adam insisted. “I know every molecule of myself, and everything around me. No one - no human, no demon - has ever been as awake and alive as I am. You are all… just shadows.” He frowned deeply, then muttered to himself, “Except perhaps this man, this… Billy Joel.” He didn’t sound so sure of that, however.

“Joke’s on him,” Giles teased lowly, approaching Buffy and leaning close so that Adam couldn’t overhear, “I feel that way quite frequently.” Buffy quirked her brow, and Giles leaned even closer so that his nose brushed her skin, “Every time I enter you.”

Buffy huffed, rolled her eyes, and elbowed him. He giggled, stepping back as she went to the returns counter to set her jump rope atop it.

“C’mon Giles, hand-to-hand,” She guided, moving to the center of the room, and he smiled as he met her there.

“Hand,” He slid one hand around her hip, and then the other, “to hand. Hm, I agree,”

“Stand at the ready, Giles,” Buffy chided, giggling anyway as she brushed his hands off of her and wriggled away, guiding his arms up in a defensive position.

“I was getting there,” He pouted, and she laughed again, rolling her eyes at him, her eyes dancing as she squared her feet.

“You were getting frisky, is what you were,” She informed him, and he scoffed.

“That was not getting frisky.” Then, he lunged toward her again, “ _This_ is getting frisky!”

He gripped her high around the waist and tucked his face against her neck, kissing her playfully and noisily as he tickled her, and she cried out in uncontrollable giggles, halfheartedly pushing at him again.

“Watch out! I’m a demon!” He playfully warned, nibbling his teeth lightly against her skin. “A smoochy demon!”

“Giles!” Buffy cried out in dismay, still laughing, and she eventually wrapped her arms around him instead of continuing trying to push him away.

Someone else stood - no, crouched - where Adam had been sitting, growling at them angrily. Their hair was wild, and mud painted their face, but when Giles glanced over Buffy’s shoulder for a better look, they were gone.

**... ... ...**

“Come on. You’ll miss all the fun.” Angel leaned against the entrance to the mansion, until Giles began to walk toward him, and then he disappeared inside.

Even though his blood felt like ice in his veins, Giles followed him anyway. This was for Buffy… somehow. Important.

“Don’t push me around. You know I have a great deal to do.” Giles chided as he stepped into the main hall. He was surprised, for a moment, and then he wasn’t, by the red carpets and curtains, the lack of dust or spider webs, the _life_ that the interior of the building seemed to hold.

Angel was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear movement behind a counter.

“You need to make up your mind, Giles.” Angel informed him. “You’re wasting time.” After a beat when Giles didn’t respond, he added, “Use that brain of yours, librarian. It’s not rocket science.”

“I sometimes still think that Buffy should have killed you.” Giles muttered in annoyance.

“We agree.” Angel replied, straightening up from behind the counter… climbing up onto it.

Giles stared at him.

“You’re a… wee little puppet man.” Giles noted calmly at Angel’s suddenly diminutive form. Then he blinked, and giggled. Angel’s little felt face scowled, which only made Giles giggle harder. He knew, then, that he must be dreaming. His subconscious had managed to shift what could have been a nightmare into something ridiculously silly instead.

Knowing better than to take any of this seriously, Giles walked back out of the mansion, unafraid to turn his back on puppet-Angel.

“I wear the cheese. It does not wear me.” A bald man with cheese slices on his head appeared outside the entry, and Giles scowled at him in distaste.

“Honestly, you meet the most appalling sort of people.” Giles grumbled to himself. Stepping out into the sunlight, it became…

**... ... ...**

… A spotlight, casting over the decent-sized crowd around him. Giles could feel something following him, closer than ever now, and wondered where Buffy was. He needed to be at the Bronze; this was where Xander and Willow were, they were waiting for him.

His couch was there in front of the stage, and he hurriedly flipped through the text that was now in his hands as he joined the other Scoobies.

“So sorry I’m late,” He apologized. “There’s a great deal going on…” There was. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t a normal sleep - but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He wasn’t exactly an experienced dream walker, after all. It was all slipping through his fingers, and he actually felt… frightened, now. “And all at once.”

“Don’t we know it.” Willow commiserated as he sat across from them. “Only at death’s door over here - look at Xander.” She reached over to pull her friend’s jacket away, and he straightened against the couch cushion to show off the bloodied gaping wound in his chest.

“Got the sucking chest wound swingin’,” He quipped. Then he gestured toward the stage, “I promised Anya I’d be there for her big night.” She was standing behind the microphone, starting her comedy bit. “Now I’ll probably be pushing up daisies, in the sense of being in the ground underneath them and fertilizing the soil with my decomposition.”

Buffy nestled herself into the wide chair beside Giles, sliding her fingers through his hair, relaxing him immediately.

“Do you know this is your fault?” Willow squinted at him, and he protested defensively,

“We have to think of the facts, Willow. I’m very busy. I have a gig, myself, you know.”

Buffy smiled and murmured something indistinct into his ear, nuzzling his jaw and continuing to slowly comb through his hair. He settled again.

“Something’s after us. It’s like some primal… some animal force.” Willow tried to explain.

“That used to be us.” He pointed out gently, closing his eyes as Buffy’s warm comfort washed over him.

“Don’t get linear on me now, man.” Xander huffed.

Anya was getting into the flow of her jokes, now, and the crowd was into it. Xander turned his attention toward the stage to watch her for a moment, and Giles closed his eyes as Buffy started necking him in earnest. They were in public, but he didn’t mind. She kept the monsters at bay…

“Rupert!” Willow’s voice startled him, and her use of his first name confused him. He opened his eyes to look at her. “You’ve gotta focus. You must have some kind of explanation. If we don’t know what we’re fighting, I don’t think we stand a chance.”

His brow furrowed thoughtfully as Buffy continued to kiss and caress his neck, though her touches grew gentler and less distracting.

“ _It’s strange,_ ” He sang, instead of speaking, musing, “ _It’s not like anything we’ve faced before._ ”

The pianist on the stage dabbled out a little tune and, now that Buffy had moved off into the crowd, Giles stood and meandered his way up the steps and to the microphone.

“ _It seems familiar, somehow…_ ” The hair on the back of his neck was standing up again. “ _Of course._ ” He grabbed the microphone, needing to get this out to the Scoobies in any way he could, even as the thoughts were slipping between his fingers like sand. “ _The spell we cast with Buffy, must have released some primal evil, that’s come back seeking… I’m not sure what… Willow! Look through the chronicles, for some reference to a warrior beast…_ ” It was right on the tip of his tongue, what it was… Where was Buffy? He couldn’t see her in the crowd. “ _I’ve got to warn Buffy, there’s every chance she might be next. And Xander - help Willow, and try not to bleed on my couch I’ve just had it steam-cleaned._ ”

Many people in the crowd had lighters raised above their heads, swaying side to side along to his singing, and he warmed with pleasure. He hadn’t sung for a crowd in so long; it was nice to know he still had it…

Suddenly, awareness hit him.

“ _No wait,_ ” He began again, the band’s chords changing suit into something a bit more somber and slow, but then his microphone rang out with feedback and cut off.

The crowd groaned in annoyance, and he fiddled with the mic cord for a moment before glancing toward the band. They all nodded and began to play an instrumental as he followed the cord down and around to the back of the stage, crawling on hands and knees behind some amplifiers.

He grumbled at the mess of cords all jumbled up together, knowing no respectable sound technician, roadie, or grip would ever leave them in such a way, and pawed through them in search of the bad wire.

And then he froze, spying something familiar. He carefully pulled out the watch chain from the pile of cords, his skin prickling with dismay as he stared at his fob watch.

“Well. That was… obvious.” He reminded himself that he was still in a dream. Many dreams? Dreams about Buffy - but not just Buffy.

He heard a snarl from above him, and though his body was screaming at him to move, to shift into a more defensible position, or _run_ , he very carefully stayed quite still.

“I know who you are.” He whispered. The Slayer. She snarled again. “And I can defeat you… with my intellect.” He tried not to flinch when he heard and felt her hop down from her perch onto the ground behind him.

This was just a dream, she wasn’t real. She couldn’t hurt him, so long as he _believed_ that. 

“I can- I can cripple you with my thoughts.” He insisted, knowing that his tone still sounded too terrified. Her threat still _felt_ very real. It wasn’t working. Where was Buffy? He needed to tell her… “Of c-course, you- you underestimate me,” He valiantly tried to continue on, even as he felt The Slayer grab his hair to pull his head back. “You couldn’t know,” He tried to take pity on her in the last moment, as he felt the knife against his forehead. “You never had… a Watcher…”

The nightmare had finally caught up to him, as much as his subconscious had tried to keep it at bay.

**— — —**

“Buffy… you have to wake up. Buffy.” Anya’s voice whispered from across the room, and Buffy grimaced as she squinted her eyes open in the early morning light. “You have to wake up right away.” Anya insisted, bundled up tight in the other dorm bed, like she was scared of a monster in the closet or something.

“I’m not really in charge of these things.” She muttered sleepily, closing her eyes again.

“Please wake up. Oh, please.” Anya _did_ sound scared… or very worried, at the least. Buffy squinted her eyes open again.

“I _need_ my beauty sleep,” She was gonna meet Giles for training later today, and wanted to be in top form. “So stop it, okay?” She tried to say it as kindly as possible, and rolled over onto her back.

There was something - someone? - on her ceiling right above her, snarling and wild and _very_ angry.

**... ... ...**

She gasped awake, staring at her childhood bedroom in a bit of a daze. Man… talk about freaky and weird. She pushed herself up onto her hands and yawned, listening for any noises going on downstairs. She couldn’t remember movie night ending, or trudging her way up to her room. Maybe her mother carried her up - or, better yet, Giles.

She smiled indulgently at that thought, but the expression fell slightly as she glanced at the empty bed next to her. Logically, she knew the odds of him staying, with her mother in the house - and _knowing_ that he was there - wasn’t likely, but a part of her had still sort of hoped…

“The guys aren’t here, are they?” Buffy figured, dressed in a long, cherry-printed sundress, standing in the middle of her room. It was going to be hot today, nothing new for summer in Sunnydale, but it was good to be prepared.

Tara was standing beside her bedroom door, waiting for her.

“You lost them.” She told her, and Buffy frowned in confusion.

“No.” They hadn’t left, last night, she was sure of it. Perhaps it was like… hide and seek. “I think they need me to find them.” She glanced toward the clock by her bedside, and groaned. “It’s so late!”

“Oh,” Tara soothed her, “that clock’s completely wrong. Here.” Then she held out a set of cards, the tarot cards Willow had used in the binding spell, and Buffy hesitated.

“I’m never gonna use those.” Magic was not her thing. It still made her way uncomfortable - and she especially didn’t feel in the mood for any more of it after everything that had just happened with Adam.

“You think you know what’s to come, what you are. You haven’t even begun.” Tara informed her, and when Buffy looked down at the stack of cards again, it was no longer her card on top - manus, the hand - but animus, the heart. Xander’s card.

“I think I need to go find the others.” She felt troubled, deeply so, in the prophetic-Slayer-senses sort of way.

“Be back before dawn,” Tara called out softly behind her.

**... ... ...**

When she stepped off the stairs, she wasn’t in the bottom floor of her house but in the hall at the university, surrounded by other students heading off to their respective classes.

“Have you seen my friends?” She asked one of the mildly familiar students - a guy from her Biology class, if she remembered correctly. He shrugged and shook his head, moving on, in a hurry. Maybe the bell was about to ring. “They wouldn’t just disappear.” She frowned deeply, seeing no Willow or Oz hanging by Willow’s locker.

She did notice a hole in the wall across the way, however, and approached it curiously.

“…Mom?”

“Oh, hi honey!” Her mom shifted closer to the hole and smiled pleasantly at Buffy.

“Why are you living in the walls?” Buffy wondered worriedly.

“Oh, sweetie no - I’m fine here. Don’t worry about me.”

Buffy peered around at what she could see, unsure.

“It looks dirty.” She commented, and Joyce glanced around, gauging her space.

“Well, it seems that way to you.” She changed the subject and smiled again, “I made some lemonade, and I’m learning how to play Mahjong. You go find your friends. I’m sure Giles is looking for you.”

“I think… they might be in danger.”

Some part of her was aware that this was a dream, or, something… but she wasn’t sure yet whether or not it was a _useful_ dream. Granted, it sure was obvious that her subconscious was getting on her for leaving her mom out of the loop for so long.

Joyce was humming something happily, touching her fingers against her side of the wall as if brushing off dust.

“I really don’t think you should be living in there.” Buffy continued to worry for her.

“Well,” She mused, “You could probably break through the wall…”

Right. It was up to Buffy to broach that space that had grown between them over the last few months. Well, she’d get right on that, after-

“Xander?” She thought she saw him skipping up the steps to the second level of the school. She drifted off after him.

**... ... ...**

Reaching the hallway, Xander was nowhere to be seen - in fact, all of the other students had disappeared. She hesitantly strode forward, considering the various closed doors before her. She had no way of telling which one Xander had gone through.

Then the sound of a doorknob clicked shut, and she rushed toward the noise, yanking the door open and taking a step inside… 

To find what looked like a conference room, with a massively large table in the middle, and a buffet bar along the wall.

Not only did the buffet appear to be shrimp, but everyone sitting around the table were… also shrimp. Man-sized, peeled, shrimp. All ribbed pink and white, like they’d been steamed, sitting in fancy office chairs on the curve of their tails. As one, all of them turned toward her. Like they were _looking_ at her.

Buffy shuddered.

“And, _nope_.” She quickly backed out and made sure the door was firmly closed between her and… whatever that was. “C’mon, brain… get it together,” She muttered to herself, deciding to try the next door.

Which she quickly closed after barely glancing in, flushing brightly and checking the hall around her even though she knew that she was still alone.

“Doubt Xander went in that one, either.” She blurted out a nervous chuckle, and then shook off the lingering image of she and Giles in the old library… _not_ using the research table for its intended function. “Wow.” She murmured, sort of impressed with her subconscious. Maybe she should try to remember that position for future reference…

She shook herself again, more firmly.

“Seriously. _Get it together, brain_. And _not_ about Giles!” She ordered herself. “Unless it’s about finding him… the real him…” As she slowly made her way down the hall to the next door, she soon realized the hall had changed, from the school into the more stark, medical, Initiative walls and floors.

The hall led into a meeting area, where Riley was sitting at a large desk across from another man.

“Hey there, Slayer.” Riley greeted.

“Riley?” She was surprised to see him, and wrongfooted by his greeting. The other Initiative guys had often called her by that, once they believed what she was, but he never had. After their chat before the earthquake, he’d always respected that she was _Buffy_ , first. “What are you doing here?” Buffy asked him, approaching only a few steps. “How did the debriefing go?”

“I told you not to worry about that.” He chided gently, and then said, “It went great. They made me surgeon general.”

Buffy frowned a little, unsure if that was a good thing or not.

“We’re drawing up a plan for world domination,” He explained, looking across the table to the other man. “The key element? Coffee makers that think.” He was quite proud of himself.

“World domination?” Buffy’s frown deepened. “Is that a good?”

“Baby, we’re the government.” Riley laughed lightly as he sat forward in his chair and leaned his elbow on the table - next to a pistol that she just noticed. “It’s what we do.”

She bristled at the pet-name, but then the other man spoke,

“She’s uncomfortable with certain concepts. It’s understandable. Aggression is a natural human tendency,” The man looked at her, and she realized that it was a fully human version of Adam. “Though you and me come by it another way.”

“We’re not demons.” Buffy argued, speaking of the slayers. They _fought_ the demons.

“Is that a fact?” Adam mused, in a tone of voice that said he knew more than she did, and she was wrong.

“Buffy, we’ve got important work here,” Riley was dismissing her. “A lot of filing, giving things names.”

Giving things names… Giles’ voice ghosted in the back of her mind, a memory of him telling her how names had power.

“What was yours?” She asked Adam.

“Before Adam? Not a man among us can remember.” He answered.

Somehow she knew, this wasn’t actually about Adam. He wasn’t her enemy, not anymore. He was just an image, a stand-in for something she hadn’t quite grasped yet.

She needed to figure out _that_ name.

Suddenly the lights changed, and a p.a. system cut on telling them about escaped demons.

“This could be serious.” Riley got to his feet. “We’d better make a fort.” Adam stood as well, and nodded seriously.

“I’ll get some pillows.”

As they left, Buffy noticed a duffel bag at her feet. Resting on top of it was the sophus card - the mind. Giles’ duffel bag, which meant weapons. Fondness filled her even as the adrenalin did as well; she could sense the demons coming nearer to her position from somewhere behind her. He was the best Watcher, always making sure she had what she needed to get the job done.

When she crouched and opened the bag, however, it wasn’t filled with stakes or crossbows. There was some kind of clay mud inside, and as she tentatively stuck her hands into it, somehow she knew to smear it over her face.

Her ‘painting’ grew frantic, energy and rage filling her as she prepared to fight these demons. Prepared to kill. ‘Cause that was what this was, and she was; it was in the name, _Slayer_. Killer.

Something smacked her in the face and she startled, wrenching her eyes open. She actually felt herself trembling with the anger inside of her as she looked down at the culprit; another card. Spiritus. Willow.

She slowly breathed, the stabilizing and centering exercises that Giles had begun to teach her, until she felt more like herself. Then she got to her feet, and meandered down the hallway in the direction Riley had disappeared to. Maybe he knew where the others were and could lead her to them.

The bluish emergency lights of the Initiative brightened, until she realized she was surrounded by sunlight and sand.

**... ... ...**

The desert. _Middle of nowhere._

“I’m never gonna find them here.” She muttered, trying not to grow panicked. She inherently felt that time was running out.

“Of course not,” Tara’s voice was there, again, and then Buffy saw her approaching from around an outcropping of rocks. “That’s the reason you came.”

“You’re not in my dream.” Buffy figured. It didn’t surprise her that Tara could dreamwalk - she bet Tara was way more powerful than any of them realized.

“I was borrowed.” Tara confirmed. “Someone has to speak for her.”

“Let her speak for herself.” Buffy returned. Maybe this wasn’t Tara, exactly. The Powers that Be? That thought manifested itself in her mind in an uncomfortable way; a sense that held the capitalization correctly even though she previously wouldn’t have exactly said such beings really exist. And that irked her. “That’s what’s done in polite circles.”

She tried not to flinch as she felt the creature sidle up beside her and around her - no, not creature. Woman.

“Why do you follow me?” Buffy demanded, and although the feral-looking woman shook her head, it was still Tara’s voice that spoke,

“I don’t.”

“Where are my friends?”

“You’re asking the wrong questions.” Tara answered as the other woman stepped back, slowly finishing her perusal of Buffy. She did not look impressed.

“Make _her_ speak.” Buffy insisted, frustrated. The woman shook her head again, and Tara said,

“I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound.” As she spoke, the other woman straightened from her animal-like crouch, proudly. “I am destruction. Absolute, alone.”

“The Slayer.” Buffy finally voiced her name, her suspicions sure, now.

“The first.” Tara murmured.

Buffy and the Slayer eyed one another for a moment, and then she felt the tarot cards in her hands again, and she lifted them up to look at them. There was an image of her and her friends, relaxing in the living room as if movie night was just getting started. There was no noise, but Willow’s mouth was moving and Xander laughed, turning toward her. Picture-Buffy and Giles both smiled at one another, and he slid his arm across the arm of his chair to reach her hand. She tangled her fingers between his.

“I am not alone.” Buffy told the Slayer.

“The Slayer does not walk in this world.” Tara whispered, and Buffy pursed her lips. This was starting to sound like some old outdated Watcher’s Council mumbo-jumbo, and she wasn’t having it.

“I walk. I talk. I shop, I sneeze. I’m gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There’s trees in the desert since you moved out, and I don’t sleep on a bed of bones.” The warmth of Giles’ snuggly arms caressed her skin, even if only in her mind. “Now _give me back my friends_.”

“No friends. Just the kill. We. Are. Alone.” The Slayer herself argued, her voice gravely and rough and very, very angry.

A balding man in a tweed suit leaned in close to them, holding slices of processed cheese in his hand, which he wiggled happily.

Buffy blinked.

“That’s it. I’m waking up.”

The Slayer didn’t seem to like that, because she quickly pounced at Buffy with no warning and they began to scuffle in the sand. She managed a strong hit and knocked Buffy back to the ground, which Buffy soon returned a few moves later, and she stepped back a couple of paces as The Slayer hopped back up. They were evenly matched; there was no way this fight would really have any useful end to it.

“It’s over.” Buffy informed her. “We don’t do this anymore.” She was beyond tired of fighting with herself about her Slayerness. She _was_ more than just the Slayer, as Giles had been telling her for ages, as she had been trying to remind herself. This, standing across from her, was blatant proof.

Whatever the Slayer used to be… that wasn’t Buffy. That wasn’t the way things worked, anymore. Even Faith knew the benefits of working with other people, the benefits of… friends. Whatever her form of friendship was, anyway.

The Slayer leapt at Buffy again and they tussled, rolling together down the steep sand dune, both fighting to stay on top and rolling and rolling in a never-ending struggle -

“Enough!” Buffy shouted in her mind.

**... ... ...**

She jerked awake, finding herself laying on the rug in front of the writing desk. Quickly gathering her bearings after that dizzy spell, she rested her eyes on Giles first, and then around the room at the others. They all seemed to be peacefully sleeping, and she let out a breath of relief and slowly pushed herself up.

With a snarl, the Slayer leapt over her again, startling her, not hesitating a moment before thrusting into her belly with a knife. Buffy winced at first, but immediately figured she was still dreaming when she didn’t actually feel any pain. She relaxed and rolled her eyes even as the Slayer continued to stab her fruitlessly.

“Are you quite finished?” Buffy raised her eyebrow, and the Slayer hesitated, glaring down at her. “It’s over, okay? I’m going to ignore you, and you’re going to go away.”

Frustrated and confused, the Slayer rose off of her and slowly stepped back, eyeing her warily. Buffy stood as well, and straightened out her sweatshirt.

“You’re really gonna have to get over the whole primal power thing.” She advised, rounding the coffee table to return to her place on the couch. “You’re not the source of me.”

She glanced toward the others again, relieved by the gentle rise and fall of their chests, and then leaned over Giles a little, softly brushing his hair back from his forehead. He really was so adorable when he slept. He smiled a tiny bit in his sleep and Buffy settled back in her seat, rearranging her blanket back over her legs.

“Also, in terms of hair care, you really wanna say ‘what kind of impression am I making in the workplace?’ ‘Cause-”

**— — —**

Buffy startled awake again, her cheek warm and a bit bumpy from being pressed into the fabric of the couch so hard, and glanced around the room quickly, hoping but still worrying a little if this time she was _really_ awake. A second later the others jerked awake as well, all of them looking unsettled as they laid eyes on one another, only visibly relaxing once they saw that they were all okay.

Xander patted his chest and grimaced before heaving out a sigh and flopping back against his pillows for a moment. Buffy reached for Giles’ hand again without looking, instead watching the perturbed expression on Willow’s face.

“Hey, guys,” Oz piped up, amused, leaning forward to set the popcorn bowl that had been on his lap back onto the coffee table. “You all conked out pretty hard. You okay?” He curled Willow’s hair back from her face, behind her ears, concerned as well. “I think you were having a nightmare,” He murmured to her, and then she clutched at him, hugging him tightly.

“We all were.” Buffy commented, catching his gaze over Willow’s shoulder. Giles squeezed her hand, rubbing his fingers against her skin, taking his own form of comfort in her. Suddenly needy for more touch, for the _real_ feeling of his arms, Buffy pushed her blanket off and crawled over the side of the chair to join Giles in it. He seemed surprised at first, but quickly shifted to give her room to curl her legs up on his lap, and wrapped both arms around her securely.

She tucked her head against his shoulder and snuggled into him, closing her eyes for a moment so she wouldn’t have to worry about any of the other’s concerned looks. She couldn’t say for sure how bad their dreams had been, but hers was just weird and very, _very_ unsettling. She didn’t have the space of mind to feel embarrassed or shy right now about wanting affection from her guy.

“All right.” Giles hummed softly, pressing a lingering kiss against her hair.

“You all had the same nightmare?” Oz wondered, and when Xander half-nodded, his eyes looking distant, Willow patted the space that Buffy had vacated.

“Get up here, Xan,” She offered, and he moved immediately, scrambling up onto the couch and claiming Buffy’s discarded blanket for himself, at least momentarily. Willow tucked her hand into his. “The first Slayer…” She mused thoughtfully, and then glanced toward Buffy and Giles.

Giles nodded in agreement with her, hiding a sleepy yawn behind his hand.

“Not big with the socialization.” Xander muttered.

“Or the floss.” Willow grimaced.

Their quipping was notably less lighthearted than it usually was, as shaken as they still were.

“Somehow our joining with Buffy, and invoking the essence of the Slayer’s power, was an affront to the source of that power.” Giles figured.

“You know, you could have brought that up to us _before we did it_.” Buffy pointed out sarcastically, reaching up to brush her fingers through the wavy strands of hair above his ear, smoothing the slightly ruffled look.

“I did.” He defended himself gently. “I said there would be dire consequences.”

“Yes, but you say that about chewing too fast.” Buffy returned, and they gave each other a little amused look, expressing their equal affection through their eyes.

“I’m… guessing I missed some fun?” Joyce wondered, treading down the stairs as she yawned, only seeming half-awake. “I thought I heard a yell.”

“The spirit of the first Slayer tried to kill us in our dreams.” Willow informed her plaintively, and Oz slipped his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh.” Joyce furrowed her brow in motherly concern, glancing over all of them. “You want some hot chocolate?” She offered.

“Yeah!” Xander and Willow immediately brightened at the idea.

“Oh, yes please.” Giles did as well, and Buffy smiled as she continued to lightly play with his hair, gazing at his profile.

She hadn’t seen him in her dream, not _really_ \- not counting that kinky little corner of her mind that she’d briefly stumbled upon - but she’d still felt him with her. Nevertheless, she was glad he was here now… here, and real. And -

“Giles!” She blurted out in a surprised gasp, relaxing her hand to his shoulder, and he looked at her in confusion. So did everyone else, and she realized immediately that she couldn’t actually confront him about what she felt beneath her thigh, not right now. Not unless she wanted to embarrass the both of them terribly. “I just, um, had a thought…” She covered, “were you dreamwalking? Like were you in my dream, or was I just dreaming _of_ you?”

“Gross, Buffy,” Xander teased, “we all know you dream about Giles - do you have to talk about it in front of us?”

Buffy flushed and Joyce raised her eyebrow.

“They weren’t _those_ kind of dreams!” She protested, and then muttered under her breath, “Mostly.”

Having been the only one that heard her, Giles sort of coughed but covered it up fairly well, shifting a bit beneath her. She glanced at him and raised her eyebrow as well, knowing that as he suddenly froze very still, he realized what she had noticed a moment ago.

“ _I_ wasn’t the one having naughty dreams,” She whispered lowly, and Giles flushed and looked away from her, swallowing. Then she focused toward the rest of the group again and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “I just wondered if any parts of those dreams were… well, real in a way, I guess. I mean, there were definite moments where I knew that I was dreaming. Even if some weird stuff was happening in the meantime.”

“I b-believe to a point, we may have been,” Giles conceded, managing to keep his voice surprisingly calm even though Buffy knew that he was still embarrassed about the boner in his pants. “Though, I’m not certain the Slayer… essence, or whatever she was, allowed _you_ as much freedom. She wanted to keep you separate from us. I’m sure I, um, d- dreamt of you as well,” He flushed a little again, adorably, and Buffy grinned, “But I’m fairly certain it was only my subconscious version of you.”

“I think I remember being in your dream!” Xander suddenly exclaimed. “Well, I’m guessing it was your dream… don’t know why I would ever dream about you singing,”

“Oh!” Willow suddenly looked a little starry-eyed and smiled warmly. “I remember that too. Do you really sing that well in real life? It was very good.” She nudged Oz and giggled a little. “I think I also remember why I had such a crush on him in high school.” Oz looked amused.

“You guys heard him sing?” Buffy pouted a little, jealous that _she_ didn’t have any singing Gileses in her dreams, but that quickly passed - she got to have the real thing, and quite often! Then, she registered the rest of Willow’s words. “I thought you were over that!”

“I am!” She protested, and then looked at Oz. “I am!”

He shrugged and smiled.

Giles was either still blushing, or it had returned again, and Joyce smiled in amusement as she piped in to the conversation,  
  


“Why don’t we let poor Mr. Giles alone before he dies of embarrassment. Xander?”

“Yes, Joyce?” Xander replied, and then stammered, wide-eyed. “Er - Buffy’s mom?”

“Be my kitchen buddy again? Help me carry?” She requested kindly.

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded. “Buffy’s mom.” Joyce drifted off toward the kitchen, and Buffy gave Xander a weird look.

“What’s with the weird?” She asked, and Xander jerked his gaze back toward her, his eyes still wide, like he was terrified.

“Nothing! No weird!”

“There’s definitely weird.” Willow agreed with Buffy, nodding.

Xander winced, half-grimacing, and Buffy groaned, knowing Xander far too well.

“Xander, _please_ tell me you did not have a dream about _my mother_.” She warned, quietly enough that Joyce wouldn’t overhear.

“No!” He immediately protested, and then said, “Not really! …I mean, it was just a short one! Nothing even happened!”

Willow giggled and Buffy groaned again, in dismay.

“Gross!”

“Hey! Why don’t we talk about how in every single one of my dreams,” Xander pointed at her and Giles, “The two of _you_ were being Mr. and Mrs. _Unhelpful_ , making out all the time!”

“I beg your pardon?” Giles blurted.

“Everywhere I went! Trying to figure out what was going on, trying to get your help, but you wouldn’t even pay attention! There was even that part with Snyder but you two were off in the trees, making out between the gunfire,”

“You dreamed about _Snyder_?” Buffy interrupted, and then snorted. Oz and Willow chuckled as well, and Xander pouted.

“It was creepy.” He shuddered.

“What’s creepy is you dreaming about my mother.” Buffy gave him a warning look as her giggles dissipated. “You’d better not entertain any more of those subconscious thoughts, either.”

“Nooo way.” Xander shook his head vehemently. “Buffy’s-mom thoughts totally gone. Promise.”

“So what’d you dream about, Buffy?” Willow asked, and Buffy furrowed her brow as she tried to recall where it began. And honestly, she was starting to feel troubled by it again.

“She was there, the whole time.”

“You all right?” Giles murmured, reaching a hand up to tenderly brush a tendril of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah.” She promised him. “Think I just need to jump in the shower.”

“You seem a bit…” In lieu of words, he gestured his head, in a manner actually quite a bit like she would do. She copied the gesture and smiled a little, admitting,

“A little.” This knew knowledge - if they could call it _knowledge_ , because honestly what did they really know? - it felt… heavy. “The first Slayer. I never really thought about it…” She took a breath as Giles raised his eyebrows in understanding. “It was intense. I guess you guys got a taste of that, huh?”

“Yeah and from now on, you keep your Slayer friends out of my dreams.” Xander quipped, though gave her a serious look. “Is that clear?” Buffy quirked a smile and nodded, and Willow gave her a gentle smile as well.

“She’s not so good for the sleepin’.” She added, and Giles nodded in agreement.

“Well, at least you all didn’t dream about that guy with the cheese.” Buffy mused, wanting to leave the heavy stuff off for the time being. No doubt, Giles would have them all in research mode over this Slayer soon enough. “Don’t know _where_ the hell that came from.”

The others didn’t say anything, and shared a look amongst one another.

“I’m… gonna go check on that hot chocolate,” Xander announced, hopping to his feet.

“I’m picking the next movie!” Willow declared, and warned him, “Get ready for some Harry and Sally, buster!”

“Hey, chick flick away.” Xander insisted, holding up his hands in acquiescence. “After all that, _I’m_ in need of a little rom-com tlc.”

“Go ahead and get started without me. I’ll catch up.” Buffy told them, sliding to her feet carefully so that she didn’t injure Giles’ sensitive bits.

“I’ll set aside your cocoa, so you can heat it up when you’re done,” Xander offered.

“Thanks,” Buffy offered him a quick smile as he headed off for the kitchen, and she the stairway. As Oz and Willow began murmuring to one another, digging through Xander’s movie pile, Buffy paused partway up the steps and waited for Giles to notice her. When he did, she gave him a look, and tilted her head up to the top of the stairs without calling too much attention to herself.

He swallowed, but then looked resolved, and got to his feet. His sudden motion startled the other two, and he glanced toward them. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, and then said,

“Yes. Well,” As if he were beginning to state something. He didn’t say anything else though, and after a beat, simply turned and followed after Buffy. The other two smiled together in amusement, but gratefully didn’t say a word before returning to their movie discussion.

Buffy smiled to herself as she led the way up to the second floor, pausing at her bedroom door.

“Wait here,” She whispered as she guided him through the doorway, figuring her mother would probably return to bed after the hot chocolate was made. She really didn’t want Giles to get caught standing in the hallway, if Joyce came back upstairs sooner than expected. “Five minutes. Then join me.” An idea had come to her.

He furrowed his brow in confusion, but nodded and stepped back so she could quietly close the door. Skipping across the hall to the bathroom, she quickly began preparing a bubble bath and stripped down, before finally pinning her hair up in a clip. She made sure to choose a scent that didn’t smell _too_ girly, and hoped that he wouldn’t mind. It’d only been women living in this house, so they didn’t exactly keep manly bath products lying around.

Once the tub was full enough, she turned off the faucet and settled in with a quiet sigh. She could feel her stiff muscles begin to relax already, and she closed her eyes as she stretched luxuriously.

She heard the bathroom door softly open and quickly close again, and didn’t open her eyes until she heard Giles’ soft intake of breath. He was still standing by the door, staring at her, his eyes lingering along her bent knee peeking through the suds. With a little grin, she lifted her leg out of the water and pointed her foot toward him, beckoning.

His gaze shifted to her pointed toes, and he drifted forward a step, before blinking and then reaching back to lock the door. Buffy grinned wider, and couldn’t help but nibble on her bottom lip for a moment as he took another step closer to the tub.

Just him standing there, with her naked beneath the bubbles, made her breath quicken.

“Join me,” She murmured invitingly, slowly lowering her foot back to the water, and she could see the desire in his eyes, though he hesitated as he eyed the bathtub.

“It’s… not very practical,” He began, and she raised her eyebrow.

“Practical?” She repeated with a snort. “We’re sharing water! Totally practical.”

“Buffy,” He gently sighed, disappointed. “That tub is not nearly large enough for the both of us,”

“I see it in the movies all the time,” She insisted, “You can get in behind me,”

“And it would be awfully uncomfortable.” He told her, still coming to stand next to the tub. “Need I remind you that movie sets are not reality?” Buffy pouted up at him, and he groaned and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment. “Don’t do that; you know under different circumstances I would very much enjoy joining you,”

“Your tub isn’t much bigger,” She continued to pout. “Not like we could take a bath together there, either.”

He put his hand on the edge of the tub to check that it was dry, before gingerly perching on it.

“Perhaps we could… compromise?” He offered hopefully, slowly drifting his hand toward the bubbles near where her knee had disappeared, trailing his fingers lightly through the water.

“Oh?” Buffy slowly perked up, not really wanting to let him off the hook yet, but curious about what he was thinking.

“I could… wash your hair for you?” He suggested, keeping his tone low, and Buffy smiled a little, though she still wasn’t gonna give in yet. She shook her head.

“I do that with the shower, when I rinse the tub out after a bath.” She touched the clip in her hair as a point, and he opened his mouth in a silent ‘ah’, and nodded.

“I could… wash… something else for you?” He then offered, his head turned toward his slowly meandering hand, though his eyes darted back in her direction. She grinned wider, unable to keep from doing so.

“Oh?” She tried not to laugh as she lifted her foot up out of the water again, wiggling her toes near his face. “How about you start here.”

He did chuckle, silently, and pulled his fingers from the soapy water to grip the arch of her foot. He massaged it with both hands, briefly, and she sighed pleasurably as she reached for her washcloth and held it aloft cheekily.

He actually did soap up her skin, taking care to rub the cloth over every inch, massaging her muscles as he worked his way up to her knee, then the same process on her other leg.

When he started up the inside of her thigh, beneath the water, however, she gripped his knee tightly and he laughingly startled back, standing to pull away from her wet grip.

“Buffy!” He scolded, mostly more amused than annoyed, “You’ll get my trousers wet!”

“Then take them off,” She reasoned plainly, and he raised his eyebrow. She grinned a lopsided, coy smile, and sat up a little bit to reach out for his belt.

“Stop it,” He protested, shifting backward another step, though his eyes were definitely focused on the near possibility of her breasts shifting out from the veil of bubbles.

Buffy rolled her eyes fondly, and relaxed back against the tub as she lifted up her leg near the wall, resting her calf on the edge of the little lip there.

“Take them off, Giles,” She murmured, resting her palm on her knee before dragging it slowly up her thigh, down beneath the water, toward the apex of her legs. She didn’t actually touch herself, but he couldn’t tell for the bubbles, and a groan rumbled from somewhere deep inside him.

Surprisingly he quickly peeled off his sweater first, his grey tee half going with it before he dropped it to the floor and straightened out the shirt. She was momentarily disappointed that he didn’t take that off as well, but that disappointment passed when he unhesitatingly unbuckled and opened up his belt, then his pants, to push them down and kick them off along with his shoes.

The bulge in his briefs wasn’t obnoxious, but it obviously hadn’t waned much while he’d waited in her bedroom, and she found herself teasing her folds as she watched him shamelessly, arousal building within her easily and steadily. He tugged his watch and his ring off next, setting them carefully on the counter by the sink, giving her a lovely view of the way those briefs hugged his derrière.

Buffy sighed happily, and pulled her hand away from herself, not wanting to get too far yet. He sat back down on the edge of the tub without removing the last of his clothes, balancing himself to lean over and give her a soft, but very thorough, kiss.

“Mmm,” She hummed as he pulled away, licking her lips. “Yummy. Better than hot chocolate!”

“Really?” He clearly didn’t believe she meant that.

“Well… maybe.” She amended, and he made a noise as if to say, ‘that’s more like it’. He shifted back and picked up her left foot again, his fingers rubbing against her skin more in a thoughtful gesture than a massaging one. “You’ve already done that one,” She reminded him.

“Of course. Though… perhaps I should make sure,” He leaned over to nuzzle the arch of her foot, tickling it with his nose and tongue, and she blurted out a laugh, the water sloshing as she flinched. “Shh,” He warned her through a heavily amused smile, watching her with dancing eyes as he kissed her ankle. “Soapy,” He wrinkled his nose as he pulled away, and she huffed at him.

“Could’ve told you that.” Still, his lips on her ankle sent tinglies up her leg and spine the way that it always did, and she subconsciously slipped her fingers over his nearest knee, again.

He didn’t stop her this time, but softly kissed up the side of her leg toward her knee, one of his hands preceding him along the inside of her thigh.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth and sighed out a soft ‘oh’ as his fingers reached their destination, reminding herself to keep the noise down. By now she was _sure_ her mother had returned to her bedroom - and though it was on the other side of the top floor, Buffy didn’t want to take any chances.

She didn’t want to think anymore about anyone else, either, while Giles had two of his fingers knuckle-deep inside of her. She tried to keep her breathing steady as her arousal grew exponentially, trying not to pant too loud or too much, but there was something simply _lovely_ about soaking in the warm water with his even-warmer fingers sliding against her skin so intimately. And his eyes, boring into hers, as he indulged himself in the signs of her pleasure.

She slid her hand further up his thigh without even thinking about it, seeking out his own telling arousal and pressing her fingers over it. He groaned behind closed lips, his hand pausing beneath the water for a moment as she cupped him and gently squeezed.

“Wet!” He suddenly giggled in that almost-yelp sort of way he would sometimes do when startled, pulling his fingers from her before darting to his feet again. Buffy groaned in complaint this time.

“Take them _off_ , Giles,” She ordered him, and he continued to giggle as he did so, stumbling a bit for a moment.

Having him naked, almost at eye level, made her suddenly go a bit brain-dead for a moment. She suddenly wanted to have him in her mouth, craved it almost, to a degree that startled her and made her swallow, hard. Maybe it was because she didn’t have one, but she loved to watch him as he grew harder for her. It made her downright tremble with the effort to keep her hands off of him, but it was an enjoyable little restraint of herself.

Plus, Giles seemed to like watching her watch him, too - she glanced back up toward his face, to find him staring at her with longing adoration and no small simmering of lust.

She patted the edge of the tub again, deciding to save her particular wants for later. It was too awkward for her to twist to face him, unless he stood up in the tub on either side of her, but she wasn’t so sure she’d be comfortable for very long like that. Nah - they could do that in bed… later.

“Come here where I can reach you,” She told him, her voice surprisingly - and mildly embarrassingly - a bit rough, and he listened immediately, sitting close so that he could lean over and kiss her again.

He rested his fingers against the side of her neck, at first, continuing to kiss her slowly and deeply as he drifted his hand across her collarbone, and then down her chest, fondling one of her nipples for a few moments until her squirming was making the water slosh a little too noisily.

“Try to sit still,” He warned against her lips, which she distantly acknowledged as his fingers finally, blissfully, returned to their previous attentions between her legs. Her own fingers danced up his thigh again, blindly reaching his length and wrapping her fist around it.

They kissed as they touched one another, growing more hard and pressing as they worked one another up, doing their best to silence each other’s noises of pleasure. Giles, who had already been quite aroused after his apparently naughty dreams (which she distantly made a mental note to interrogate him about later), came first, gasping against her mouth as he jerked beneath her hand.

His fingers had paused inside of her as he orgasmed, but she didn’t mind, happily accepting the peppered, smiley kisses he was bestowing upon her between his quiet gasps for air.

“I,” Pant, kiss, “love,” pant, kiss, “you,” kiss, pant, kiss again. Then he began to slide his fingers in and out of her, focusing on rubbing against her clit, and she sucked in a sharp gasp of her own as her orgasm crested rather suddenly quickly. She arched up out of the water, gripping her fingers hard around his thigh as she gritted her jaw in effort not to cry out, and he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to bury her head in the crook of his neck.

She plastered her mouth against his skin, biting, muffling her moan as she rocked against his fingers, feel-good endorphins flooding her system and making her forget all about vengeful Slayers and exhausting dreams. He groaned again, his slowly relaxing cock throbbing within her loose fist once more, before they both finally slumped a little against one another, breathing together.

“That was,” Buffy was out of breath, too, when she eventually spoke up again. “A decent compromise.” He gingerly leaned back, making sure she was ready to relax back against the tub as well before sitting up fully.

“Just decent?” He quirked his eyebrow, and she grinned, lazy and wide.

“Very decent.” He grinned too, and she glanced down as she gently let go of his cock, then noticing the state of his shirt. “Oh, oops.” She winced. “ You're covered in soap bubbles and water.” His tee was damp where she’d been leaning against him.

“More than that,” He winced as well, tugging out the hem of his shirt to indicate the come that also glistened on it.

“Oh,” She then grinned again, and when their eyes met again his were sparkling as well. He stood and peeled off the shirt carefully, balling it up inside-out to keep the mess hidden before dropping it to the floor, and then perusing the cabinet for another washcloth. She enjoyed his comfortable nudity with her, and didn’t hide that enjoyment when he turned back around.

He gave her a wry, but amused look, as he knelt by the tub once more.

“Might I borrow a little soap?” He dryly requested, dipping the rag into the water and wringing out the drips before using it to clean himself up. She got a little distracted, watching those long, knowing fingers work with comfortable familiarity, and she felt herself getting hot again as she remembered the time they’d stayed in bed one morning, and watched one another get themselves off.

She shook herself out of that reverie, and cleared her throat, reaching for her own washcloth and quickly scrubbing down her arms and body.

“Can I go down on you?” She asked suddenly, and he jerked his eyes up toward her, startled.

“What?” His voice lilted just slightly higher. “Now?!”

“No,” She snorted, “Not now. I don’t think we should take much more time up here as it is; the others will come looking for us.” And there were some evenings he frankly shocked her with his stamina, but that kind of thing wasn’t always expected.

“You-” He swallowed, and momentarily set his washcloth on the edge of the tub as he pulled his briefs back up to his hips. “What- …How long h-have you been thinking about that?” He wondered, and she shrugged a little.

“Since our little rendezvous on Lovers Lane last summer.” She replied with casual honesty, and noticed from her peripheral vision that his eyes widened in surprise. “Maybe even a little before that. …But much more seriously, lately.”

“Oh.” He croaked, and she glanced up to look at him directly, seeing that he was overwhelmed.

“Do you not want me to? Contrary to popular belief, I _do_ know that some guys are actually uncomfortable with that sort of thing.”

“N- no, no, no I’m quite- well, no, that isn’t it,” He stammered, carding his fingers through his hair. He slowly tugged his trousers back on, and she softly sighed as she reminded herself to be patient with his nervousness. Whatever the reason for it. “I, um… don’t want you to feel like you have to. I just, assumed, um, since we haven’t done that, you weren’t very, erm, receptive to the idea yourself.”

“I like it when _you_ go down on _me_.” She pointed out, and he flushed attractively.

“Yes, well.” He licked his lips, probably subconsciously, and she smiled a little to herself. He liked going down on her, too; they both knew it. “That’s different,” He eventually said. “It doesn’t make you obligated to return the favor.”

“I know, Giles.” She assured him softly, leaning forward to lift the stopper from the drain and let the tub begin to empty. “And I do appreciate you saying that, but, that’s not why I want to. I _want_ to.”

“Christ,” He muttered, not so quietly that she couldn’t still hear him in the small room, “if you keep saying that I _will_ be ready to go again.”

She chose not to acknowledge that as she stood and reached for the shower nozzle, preparing to turn it on. If they kept following that line of conversation, he’d soon be in the shower with her.

“I’m just gonna rinse the bubbles off and wash my hair,” She told him when he hesitated after pulling his sweater back over his chest. He simply stood there gazing at her, looking like the poster-boy for ‘lovesick’, and she gave him a wry smirk. “You might wanna wash off that aura of satisfaction from your face before you join the others. And you _should_ , join the others, right now,” She ended her ‘suggestion’ with a laugh, shaking her head in fond amusement as she pulled the end of the shower curtain back inside of the tub and tugged it closed between them.

**... ... ...**

When Buffy returned back downstairs, Xander had resumed his lounging position amongst the pillows, the bowl of popcorn balanced in his lap. Willow and Oz were half-laying on their side on the couch, leaving enough room at their feet for Buffy, and Giles smiled warmly as he watched her enter the room. He leaned forward in his chair to pick up one of the steaming mugs from the table in front of him, and waited for Buffy to get comfortable in her corner of the couch before handing over her hot chocolate.

“Thanks,” She gave him a little knowing smile as their fingers lingered together, and he returned it for a moment, before glancing at the others and pulling away. He had a slight blush on his cheeks, which he valiantly tried to hide as he reached for his own mug and held it in front of his face, blowing over the top before taking a sip.

Buffy rolled her eyes in fond exasperation at his sometimes-shyness - brushing their fingers together was _hardly_ the worst thing they’d done in front of the gang, even just earlier tonight. When she glanced over, however, she startled to find Willow watching her with a smugly amused look on her face.

“Feel better?” She asked innocently, and Buffy nodded, choosing not to be shy about it as she casually carded her damp hair over her shoulder and sipped her chocolate.

“Yep, all refreshed.”

Willow’s smile widened anyway, but she didn’t say anything else as she snuggled into the arms of her boyfriend and returned her focus to the movie.

When Buffy looked back at Giles, his blush had deepened a little bit, but he was stoically munching on corn nuts and pretending that he was solely focused on the television screen. She wriggled in her seat until she could stretch her legs out and prop her ankles atop his knee, just within her reach, and sighed happily as she took another drink from her mug and then cradled it against her chest. She wasn’t really cold, per se, but the comfiness was wonderful.

Giles shifted his mug to his right hand, so he could rest his left atop her feet, and she inwardly preened indulgently.


	30. Chapter 29 (Who Are You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

It was early afternoon when Buffy found Giles’ door locked, and she furrowed her brow as she dug her key out of her pocket. She let herself in, stepping hesitantly. The only time he ever locked his door was if _she_ was already there with him, and they didn’t want any Scooby interruptions.

Otherwise, he _always_ kept his home unlocked for them. Just in case.

She opened her mouth to call out for him, but then realized that he was sitting on his couch, his back toward her. He hadn’t noticed her entrance, because he was… singing. And by the sounds of it, playing a guitar, though she couldn’t see the instrument at this angle.

Buffy drifted a few steps closer before stopping, not wanting to interrupt him as she watched the back of his head and listened, entranced. The others’ shared dream must’ve been right - he _did_ know how to play! Buffy had heard him sing before; oftentimes as he cooked breakfast or dinner, but there was something different about this…

“I feel like you have reserves of hotness that I haven’t even begun to tap.”

“Buffy!” Giles yelped in surprise and leapt up, gripping the neck of the guitar in one hand as he spun around to face her.

“Sorry,” She winced, moving closer now. “I was trying not to startle you.”

“I, um…” He looked embarrassed, and lowered the instrument down by his side almost as if he wanted to hide it. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Your door was locked…?” She half-questioned.

“I wanted some time to myself,” He explained softly, and she winced again.

“Sorry,” She repeated, and took one step backward. “I guess I should’ve called, first,”

“No, Buffy,” He hurriedly interrupted, shifting around the side of the couch to close the distance between them. “You are always welcome. I just… the others can be so… noisy.” He explained lamely, and she slowly relaxed, and gave him a rueful smile.

“And I’m not?” She raised her eyebrow, teasing slightly, knowing that her… youthful boisterousness irked him sometimes, regardless that he loved her. His cheeks reddened just a little as he smiled crookedly.

“You come with other benefits.” He supplied. Buffy’s other eyebrow shot upward to join the first, but then she grinned wider and laughed. He appeared to relax at the sound, as well, and she gestured toward the guitar as she eyed it a little closer.

“You do, too. I didn’t know you owned a guitar.”

“It’s been living in the spare room since I’ve moved to Sunnydale. I had to dig it out from behind quite a few boxes from the library.”

“Hiding it from yourself too, huh?” She figured gently, and he hesitated before nodding.

“A lot of memories… some of which I hadn’t wanted to face when I moved here and became your Watcher.”

“Ripper?”

He nodded silently, and as they spoke, he returned to his previous position on the couch and she sat on the end of the coffee table across from him.

“Pre-Ripper, really. I gave up playing while I was running around with the gang, and by the time I’d returned home with my tail between my legs, well… I felt as if I didn’t deserve the joy that playing music had brought me.”

“And… now you feel like you deserve that joy again?” Buffy followed, and he gave her a searching look for a long moment.

“I… hadn’t thought to put words to it, but yes, I suppose you’re right.” He admitted, gazing at her warmly now. He added softly, “You make me feel that way.”

“Giles!” Buffy swooned, and he sent her a little smile before ducking his head and plucking a random little tune on the strings. She decided to hold off on attacking him with kisses, and tucked her hands beneath her thighs to resist the temptation as she watched him avidly.

“ _Something in the way she moves,_ ” Giles began to sing softly, keeping his eyes on his strumming for a moment, “ _Attracts me like no other lover,_ ”

Buffy smiled a little in delight at the words; he was playing her a _love song_! Sometimes she really thought he was so dorky, but his romanticism was so… wonderful to be the subject of.

“ _Something in the way she woos me… I don’t wanna leave her now, you know I believe and how,_ ” He rocked a little side to side as he played, loosening up more, and then glanced up toward her with an aloof expression as he sang, “ _Somewhere in her smile, she knows, that I don’t need no other lover,_ ”

Buffy grinned wider at that, and pulled her feet up to sit cross-legged on the table, propping her elbow on her leg and her head in her hand. He looked amused by her smirk, and then watched his hands for a few more moments as he continued the song. She was fascinated by the little instrumental he played, the way his fingers danced over the strings and bent them into interesting sounds. When he finished up the last verse of the song, he looked up toward her again, his gaze soft and loving,

“ _Something in the way she knows, and all I have to do is think of her… something in the things she shows me, I’m not gonna leave her now, you know I believe and how,_ ” He slowly strummed the last few chords, and Buffy sighed quietly.

“That was… beautiful.” She admitted in a murmur, and he looked pleased, then lowered his head again as if he were shy. “Who’s it about?” She wondered, a bit coyly, which Giles didn’t seem to catch as he continued to fiddle somewhat of the same tune with the strings.

“One presumes Pattie Boyd,” He answered, “However,”

“Who is Pattie Boyd?” Buffy demanded, her spine stiffening, and Giles looked up from the guitar in confusion at her tone.

“She was a model, in the 60’s, and-”

“Of _course_ she was.” Buffy grumbled, thinking of Olivia. What was it with him and models? She knew it was useless to be jealous of a past that it was impossible for her to have been a part of, probably stupid too, but she couldn’t help it. Giles gave her an odd look.

“And George Harrison’s wife, for a time.” Giles finished a bit pointedly, and Buffy hesitated. When she glanced toward his eyes again, he added rather blandly, “Though he always insisted the song wasn’t written about her.”

“Oh.” Buffy _did_ feel pretty stupid, now. “So, uh, you didn’t write that?”

“Good heavens,” Giles laughed, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the guitar to keep the strings quiet as he shifted in his seat. “Certainly not.” He chuckled some more and added, in a bit like his ‘librarian’ tone, “We need to spend this summer giving you a _proper_ music education.”

“Just ‘cause I don’t listen to your retro music,” Buffy grumbled again, shifting her weight as she avoided his eyes. She’d already been feeling stupid anyway for her moment of jealousy, and his laughter - while usually a sound that she delighted in - hurt a bit.

“Buffy,” He was still amused, possibly a bit incredulous as well, “it’s _the Beatles_.”

Which, okay, she could remember her mom mentioning that band a few times over the years - namely some guy named Paul - but Giles said that as if everyone under the sun knew them intimately, like, the same idea that the sky was blue, or something.

She flushed a little, suddenly starkly reminded of the vast differences between them. She often forgot that Giles wasn’t simply ‘an English guy’ - he was from a _whole different country_. And a whole different generation, too.

“Buffy,” He seemed to finally realize her discomfort, and carefully set his guitar aside on the couch to shift to the edge of his cushion and rest both hands on her curled legs. “I apologize, I didn’t mean-”

“Do you write at all?” She asked curiously, trying to move on and put the awkward moment behind them. She knew that he hadn’t been purposefully laughing _at_ her. “Or just play other people’s stuff?” She wasn’t asking unkindly, and he seemed to hear that in her tone.

“I’ve… written before, but, um, no - I usually play my own versions of others’ music.” He answered, keeping his hands on her knees, leaning forward in his seat, giving her an imploring look until she met his gaze again. When she eventually did, she smiled a bit ruefully.

“I did like that song.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled warmly. “Shall I play you another?” He offered, slowly leaning back and reaching for his guitar again, and she nodded as she resettled herself and watched him interestedly.

He started a pattern plucking his fingers at the individual strings, a tune which Buffy quickly recognized if only because she’d heard him singing it before, and she smirked knowingly at him as he glanced up to give her a cheeky grin, his hands never faulting over the notes.

“Our prom song!” She wriggled happily, just like that put at ease again. And this time when he began to sing the verses, he held her eye contact the whole time, his voice soft but earnest. At the first ‘I’ll be watching you’, he winked at her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Ugh, he turned _her_ into a romantic dork, too. It was almost as if all the drama of the past few months had made her forget just how head over heels she was, and now it was hitting her all over again, in that girly ‘wanna squeal and dance and paint my nails with my best friend while we gush over his hotness’ sort of way. Shouldn’t that kind of swoony-ness be gone, by now?

He continued on with the song, likely intending on finishing the whole thing, but last time he’d sung it a bit goofily and now, there was the sort of emotion that had her heart feeling too big for her chest.

Buffy unfurled her legs and reached forward, gently putting her hand over his strumming hand and stopping him, before grabbing the neck and the body of the guitar to pull it out of his hands and carefully set it on the coffee table beside her.

“What-” He started to question, but she didn’t stop moving, sliding forward over him, pushing him back against the couch as she straddled his lap. She slid her palms up his chest, sighing happily, and his hands rested on her waist even though his expression was still confused.

She hummed, overwhelmed with her love for him in this moment, and draped her arms around his neck to curl her body as fully against him as she could, kissing him soundly.

After many minutes of the two of them sweetly making out there on the couch, she pulled her head back so that they could catch their breath, and she could comment,

“That song is actually kind of creepy.”

“Creepy?” Delightfully, he had to pause for breath before continuing to speak, “I believe the last time, you said that your, and I quote, ‘panties would fall right off’.”

“You’re literally the only person in this world that could sing that song and it _not_ be creepy,” Buffy giggled, and he murmured a few more of the lines in her ear, interspersing them with soft and slow butterfly kisses, and light nips of his teeth against her skin. Eventually she was shifting over him impatiently, rubbing against his growing arousal beneath her, and he chuckled a sound that was far too smug. “Well, panties are still on,” She huffed challengingly at him, even as she tilted her head back, and her fingers carded through his hair. He took the opportunity to mouth down the arch of her neck.

“Hmm,” He hummed against the hollow of her throat, making her tremble. “I shall have to rectify that situation posthaste.”

“ _God_ ,” She jokingly complained of his wordage, even rolling her eyes although he couldn’t see them, as focused on her collarbone as he was at the moment.

“Giles,” He corrected her with another giggle, pulling one out of her as well, and soon their mouths met again, hands dancing over one another as together they bunched up the long hem of her dress out of the way and opened the fly of his trousers.

**— — —**

Buffy tapped her fingers over the top of the headstone they were leisurely strolling by as she answered the final question he had asked from the study guide.

“Thanks, Giles,” She sent him a grin and he gave her a small nod in return, “knew I could count on you!”

“As the resident textbook-with-arms…” He grumbled good-naturedly, carefully tucking her notes inside the book in his hands, closing it up and holding it by his side, and she groaned loudly.

“Come on, you _know_ -”

A growling snarl interrupted her, and she just barely managed to side-step the lunging vampire who’d come out of nowhere from behind her. She used his momentum against him and pushed him further away as she readied for his continued attack.

Instead, he paused, and squared his feet as they eyeballed one another.

“C’mon, babe,” He decided, his eyes roving over her form obnoxiously slowly. “Drop the softie and come take a walk with me.” He was still in game-face, but he tried for an innocent expression anyway, which only made Buffy grimace.

“Softie?” Giles protested, and Buffy glanced toward him. He was dressed in a casual pair of trousers and a thin sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. It actually fit him fairly well, too. Sure, he wasn’t in leather or jeans or anything, but she wouldn’t call him a _softie_.

The vampire grabbed his own crotch and grinned lewdly.

“I promise you’ll have way more fun with me than Mr. Professor Guy can handle.”

Buffy huffed, relaxed her stance, and rolled her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Excuse me? Can you _be_ any more predictable?” She complained, and the vampire hesitated, slowly relaxing his hand by his side again, confused by her reaction. “You wanna talk about fashion? What, did you fall out of the eighties?” She shook her head and glanced at Giles. “I’ve always said, you can tell a vampire from a mile away if you’ve just got eyes and a modicum of fashion sense.”

Giles made a face, half rolling his eyes as well, except he hadn’t adopted quite as relaxed a posture as Buffy had. He didn’t have Slayer reflexes, after all, and if the vampire decided to come after _him_ , by the grip of his hand on her English Lit book, she’d say he was prepared to use it as a blunt instrument.

“Mid-riff shirts are _so_ not in for dudes anymore, pal.” Buffy informed the vampire plainly, who frowned and looked down at his exposed abs.

“Well…” He was wrong-footed for a moment, but then he confidently met her gaze again, with a smirk on his face. “We won’t have to worry about clothes, soon enough,” He widened his smile toothily, slowly stroking his palm back over across his groin, and Buffy grimaced again.

Giles growled a little, his weight shifting as if he were about to attack the creep, but Buffy grabbed his arm to stop him as she tugged her stake from the back of her waistband.

“I get my kicks _above_ the waistline, sunshine.” She informed the vampire, leaping forward and knocking his defensive arms out of the way before quickly staking him dead. She released her breath as the dust settled, and then shook the stake off before tucking it back into her jeans. “Get it?” She said brightly as she turned back toward Giles. “Your brains? ‘Cause you’re like, the smartest person I know!”

“How kind of you to notice.” Giles mused sarcastically, relaxing now that the threat was gone, though he did glance around them to check for any undead reinforcements.

“Well… I also like what’s below _yours_ …” Buffy stepped closer to him and tucked her hand up beneath the bottom of his sweater, gripping the front edge of his trousers. She tugged hard enough on his clothing to pull him off balance and against her.

“Buffy,” Giles chided, “We are on patrol. _And_ studying. The six-inch rule is most certainly in effect.”

“Bummer.” She sighed, sliding her palm upward over his tummy, the smattering of finer hairs there tickling her skin pleasantly. He still seemed uncomfortable, so she pulled her hand out from under his sweater and wrapped her arms around his lower back so she could hug him properly. “Don’t let a vampire with horrible taste make you feel bad. I mean, did you see his outfit?”

Still, Giles stood stiffly in her arms, and she sighed and pulled away. He really wasn’t gonna give in, tonight.

“Fine.” She grumbled. “Six-inch rule.” She purposely stepped a few more paces away from him than necessary, and gave him the eye. “As soon as we’re home, mister, I’m going to show you everything I love about you.”

He grinned suddenly, his stoicism vanishing, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“I look forward to it.” He replied, lifting the book to flip it open in his hands again, perusing through it as he slowly began to walk amongst the headstones again.

“You faker!” Buffy accused, and he giggled and glanced up to give her an innocent expression.

“What? I might not be trim and toned, but I’m not ashamed of my body.” He reasoned innocently, and then he grinned again. “I believe my girlfriend once phrased it, ‘this body was _made_ for lovin’,” He drawled.

“Oh my God,” Buffy covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You were quite enthusiastic about it at the time.”

“Hey I’m not saying I was _wrong_ ,” She protested, “but I couldn’t have said something, I don’t know, a little more suave?”

“As I recall, that night ended rather pleasantly.” He reasoned happily, and they shared fond, bemused smiles.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Another vampire strolled out from the other side of the mausoleum they were passing. “I’ll give you a pleasant ending,”

“Ugh.” Buffy complained, staking him immediately, to Giles’ noticeable surprise. “That’s the fourth vamp tonight, and every one of them is more obnoxious. Can we go home, now?”

“We haven’t hit Restfield, yet,” Giles verbally protested as Buffy began walking toward the road.

“Faith is at Parkdale, I’ll ask her to cover it. She won’t mind.” Their little cellular phones were really coming in handy, these days. As she pulled the device out of her pocket, Giles followed after her, his eagerness apparent in the quickness of his step.

Buffy grinned to herself as she hit Faith’s speed-dial number and waited for the other Slayer to answer.

Soon she’d be studying the topic she was _most_ interested in - Rupert Giles.

She couldn’t wait until semester exams were finished and her summer holiday could begin for real. She planned on using the break to get her PhD in all things Giles. A little shiver trembled up her spine as she considered her retaliation for tonight, for his pretend-refusal to even hug her in return earlier.

She was gonna get him naked and tickle him until he begged her to stop… or begged her to fuck him.

She didn’t realize the expression on her face, until they stood across from one another on either side of his newest rental car as he unlocked it. He’d paused, and looked at her warily.

“What’s that face for, then?” He asked hesitantly, and she immediately dropped the smile.

“What?” She asked innocently, which only made him more wary, and then she beamed sweetly at him as she opened the passenger door. “Just preparing. My Watcher always taught me to be prepared.” She quipped, and he opened his door as well, but didn’t get in yet. “You’ve still got those nice shackles, right? The padded ones?” She asked, and his eyes widened behind his glasses. His face first paled, and then went deep red, and she just gave him that sweet smile before getting into the car.

He hadn’t known that Buffy knew about those shackles, tucked back in the far corner of his armoire. Her smile turned into a smirk as she buckled her seatbelt.

He still stood outside it for a moment, probably gathering himself before sitting down next to her. When he did finally join her, he handed off her textbook and started the car without saying a word, and if he drove a little too fast back to his apartment, well, Buffy wasn’t gonna complain.

**— — —**

“And another final down!” Buffy crowed triumphantly as she swung into the dorm room, tossing her bag onto her bed and bouncing onto the mattress happily. Tara and Willow both grinned at her from their cross-legged positions on Willow’s bed. Oz, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed near Willow, sent her a tiny smile in silent greeting. “Whatcha doin? Witchy stuff?” Buffy wondered, legitimately curious about the book the girls had opened between them. She was in a good mood; she felt confident about the English Lit test she’d just taken, plus she was still sort of rocking the feel-goods from her fun night with Giles the other night.

“Witchy stuff,” Willow confirmed. “We were just working on a floaty spell - in tandem! - seeing if we could move bigger and heavier stuff than just a few pencils,” She explained, “Giles says with practiced control, we’d be able to move _people_. Without squishing them!”

“Uh… _squishing them_?” Buffy repeated, the imagery from that statement not appetizing at all.

“We noticed something… odd, while we were focusing.” Tara supplied, diverting the focus of the conversation.

“Odd?” Buffy reigned in her guy-bubbliness just a notch or two. “Uh-oh. Whenever I hear ‘magic’ and ‘odd’ in the same sentence, I usually end up with goopiness.”

“Uh-” Willow snorted and blushed suddenly. “Goopiness?! What do you and Giles get up to on the weekends?!”

“Huh? I’m talking about demon guts. What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, and Willow bit her lip and turned her head away, shaking her head quickly.

“Nothing, nothing,” She said quickly, and Buffy gave her a suspicious look. Oz’s smirk widened for a moment, but then he smothered it and spoke up,

“They said they felt something… someone, rather. Someone else.”

“A ghost?” Buffy immediately wondered, widening her eyes. “Ohhhh, no, Buffy doesn’t do ghosts. Been there, done that, never again!” She glanced around the room, and whined softly, “We’re not haunted, are we?”

“N-no, not a ghost,” Tara gave her a gentle, encouraging smile, which she found immediately relaxing, and believed her. “And not here. Another m-magic user. A powerful one.”

Buffy sat up straighter on her bed, tensing again.

“A baddie?” She asked gravely. She _really_ did _so_ not want to be dealing with another big bad guy again so soon - hadn’t she met her quota for the year yet??? Adam, just by himself, should at least count for two or three.

“His aura didn’t feel… like sunshine and puppies,” Willow carefully answered, looking at Tara for confirmation, who nodded in agreement. “And, Buffy…”

“What?” Buffy pressed, when she didn’t soon continue.

“It felt familiar. As in… I’m pretty sure it’s Ethan Rayne.”

**... ... ...**

It had been hours since Tara and Willow had registered Ethan’s presence, and Buffy and Giles weren’t any closer to figuring out where he actually was or _why_ he was hanging around in town. Buffy was extremely on edge - Giles had only recently been beating himself up about performing some kind of magic that he wasn’t entirely proud of, only for _Ethan_ to be lurking around? She didn’t like the timing of this, not at all.

“I don’t understand,” Buffy grumbled, “I thought you said he was being taken to some place in Nevada? Like magical rehab?”

“That’s what I had been told…” Giles’ tone was one of distrust. “But we all know the true bones of the Initiative, what they were like. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if they caught wind of what had happened, and intercepted the police.”

“If the Initiative had him…” Buffy grimaced, only imagining how they may have treated the warlock. “You think they kept him there all that time? I mean he’s _annoying_ , and I _really don’t like him_ , but he doesn’t deserve… whatever the Initiative thinks is ‘study’.”

“If what Oz has told us can attest…” Giles sighed lightly. “They were none too kind to those they were determined to ‘study’.” He gave Buffy a look. “And taking that into consideration… Ethan likely wants retaliation,” Giles spoke heavily, pulling his glasses from his face to rub the bridge of his nose. “There truly is no telling what the Initiative may have been doing to him while he was there. And _I_ sent him there.”

“You meant for him to go to _Nevada_ , Giles, not the creepy science dungeons beneath Sunnydale.”

“He might not know that.” Giles was grumbling now, too, clearly still feeling a bit troubled between guilt and annoyance. “He must’ve broken out when we had broken in… hidden during the fray, and slipped away without the soldiers noticing…”

“Well… he isn’t here, yet anyway…” Buffy frowned a little, confused. Something didn’t exactly add up. “And you haven’t seen him at all since the Fyarl incident? Got nothing suspicious in the mail? No weird phone calls?”

It was nearing three weeks since the Initiative had ‘fallen’. If Ethan had broken out during the ruckus, as suspected, then why had he stayed quiet for this long?

“Nothing that would indicate Ethan was about,” Giles confirmed, and then for a moment his eyes sparkled. “Though I did receive a subscription for _TV Guide_ that I’m fairly certain could have been some kind of incendiary device,”

“Please,” Buffy rolled her eyes at his teasing. “I still say you need a better grasp of how television works here in America - but we can continue that discussion later.” She raised her eyebrow and he pursed his lips in amusement, but then tucked his glasses back on and picked up his phone.

“I should check in with Wesley, and see if either of them have noticed him during their patrols.”

“He- he knows about us, I’m pretty sure,” Buffy hesitantly considered, thinking of Ethan’s glib words and sly looks the last time she’d seen him. “Or _thinks_ he knows anyway - and happens to be right on the money… what if - I mean, would he try to do something to _me_ , to get to you? Again?”

“He absolutely would, if he saw it as an available avenue,” Giles nodded in confirmation, giving her a serious look before he then glanced away; Wesley must’ve answered. “Ah, yes, it’s Giles. Hello.”

As he spoke briefly with the other Watcher, Buffy slowly paced the living room in front of the fireplace, considering. She didn’t even realize that she was absent-mindedly scratching at the tattoo on the back of her neck.

It would be next-to-impossible to know if Ethan had ever been at the college at all, spying on her - it was an open campus, and had students of all ages attending. It wasn’t like high school, where a strange adult lurking about would be cause for alarm.

(Then again, Wesley had hung around quite easily, hadn’t he? Of course, Snyder hadn’t exactly been focused on strange _adults_ at the school… just the strangeness of Buffy, mostly.)

“Wesley hasn’t seen any hint of Ethan, but assured he will keep an eye out.”

“Check in with Willow?” Buffy requested before he set the phone down. “Maybe even have her come here… or better yet - Ethan might still come here - have her go to Oz’s, or Tara’s.” Giles began dialing once more, and Buffy resumed her thoughtful pacing. “I don’t think he’d necessarily do anything to her, to get to you, but she’s been getting stronger magically, and that might interest him a little too much.”

“It may.” Giles agreed gravely.

“If he’s not going after you, then he’d come after me.” Buffy furrowed her brow. “He did that the very first time he graced this town with his presence, and that was before we were even…” She trailed off. “Except… he _hasn’t_ come after me. Why?”

“Biding his time? Planning something especially nefarious? I’ve known Ethan for most of my life, but I still cannot presume to know what goes on in that head of his.” Giles sighed, and then spoke up into the phone, “Willow, hello, … Yes, it’s me. Ethan hasn’t shown himself yet, and I believe it would be best if the gang stick together… Yes, perfect. Just stay together, and stay on campus. He won’t try anything especially nasty in front of witnesses that could get him sent right back into prison again. …Of course, yes. I’ll let you know. …Goodbye.” Giles hung up the phone, and then met Buffy’s eyes. “Tara and Willow had been attempting a location spell - although I could have told them that would be the first thing Ethan would protect himself from - so they are already together. Oz and Xander are with them.”

“Perfect.” Buffy began to think aloud, “He’d go after the easiest target he could find… he’s an opportunist, a mischief-maker more than anything…” The idea came to her suddenly, and somehow, maybe Slayer intuition, she just _knew_ that she was right. “Mom.” She worried. Giles thinned his lips tellingly and sent her a nod, but reached for her arm as she rushed by him for the door.

“I’ll call Wesley again, have Faith meet you there. And be careful! He may have protected himself with spells.”

**... ... ...**

Ethan knocked on the front door and stepped back, quickly brushing his fingers through his hair and straightening out his shirt before relaxing, and adopting a sheepish expression.

“Hello,” He greeted when the door opened, “I’m terribly sorry for the late hour, but I’m afraid my car’s broken down just down the street, and I wondered if I might borrow your phone to call a tow?”

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that,” Joyce hesitated just slightly, remembering the rules Buffy had insisted after what had happened during her eighteenth birthday. She couldn’t just ignore a man in trouble, though, just because she was being paranoid… She stepped back, and gestured her arm toward the hall phone. “The phone is just over here,” She offered, instead of directly inviting him in.

Ethan ducked his head and smiled in appreciation, stepping over the threshold, and Joyce couldn’t help but feel herself relax slightly, relieved that this man wasn’t a vampire.

Actually… he was kind of cute, she thought - a little skinny, but that smile and lovely head of hair more than made up for it. And his accent! She was tempted to blurt out and ask if he knew Rupert Giles, but then figured that would be rude, assuming that all Englishmen knew one another.

Then again, how many Englishmen would show up in Sunnydale, and _not_ be associated with the whole Slayer thing, in some way or another?

Joyce narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched the rather tall man reach for the phone. Actually, he seemed _familiar_ a little bit. She couldn’t remember where she’d seen him before, though.

“Are you one of them?” She decided to ask, and clarified when he glanced up toward her again, “From the Council?” She didn’t really know anything about the Watcher’s Council, other than that they forced Slayers of age to go through horrible tests, they fired Giles for simply caring too much, and that Buffy held no lost love for them as a whole. “Are you in town because of Buffy?”

“Oh,” He smiled and chuckled and shook his head, and put the phone back into its cradle. “You wouldn’t catch me dead in tweed.”

She had no time at all to react before he gestured his hand toward her and mumbled something in Latin, sending her paralyzed bonelessly to the floor.

“You could say, though, yes - Buffy is the reason I’m here,” He smiled warmly down at her for a moment, and then closed the front door before gathering her up in his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

**... ... ...**

Buffy silently used the porch railing to haul herself up onto the roof, and crouched down beside the small window at her mother’s bedroom. Peeking into it quickly, she saw that she couldn’t enter the house this way - at least not yet. Ethan had her mother in the bedroom, for some reason; he was standing in front of the dresser and mirror, and her mom was sitting on the bed, up against the headboard as far back from him as she could get.

“Promise you won’t spare my feelings just because I could kill you,” Ethan peered into the mirror as he fixed the collar of his shirt, and then turned to face Joyce, who drew her feet up in front of her. “How do I look?” He asked, holding his arms out a little, and she blinked.

“Psychotic.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, and turned back toward the mirror for a moment.

“Oh, and I was going for sexy…” He pouted, briefly. “Oh well.” He shrugged, and then moved to sit on the end of the bed. She hugged her arms tighter around her bent knees, but didn’t otherwise move or shift her eyes away from him. “I bet I know what you’re thinking,” He smiled, teasing.

“Really?” She lifted her chin defiantly, a gesture reminiscent to Buffy. Or rather, a gesture that Buffy had acquired from her mother.

“You’re thinking… ‘You’ll never get away with this!’” He adopted a high pitched, swoony voice, and Joyce wasn’t moved.

“Actually, I was thinking my daughter is going to kill you soon.” She returned, and he raised his eyebrows as if impressed.

“Is that a fact?” He chortled.

“More like a bet.” Joyce said firmly, and Buffy couldn’t help but perk up a little, pleasantly amazed by her mom’s belief in her. Ethan leered, leaning a hand on the mattress closer toward Joyce.

“You’ve got a pair on you,” He mused, losing some of his ‘debonair’ accent. “I like that in a woman,” He purred. “I see where your daughter gets it from.”

Joyce bristled at that, and he waved his hand in the air as he hopped to his feet again and paced by the end of the bed.

“Oh, not to worry Mummy dear, _my_ filthy hands have not been on your daughter.” He leered again, chuckling, “We’ll leave that to ol’ Rupert, hm?” That also finally got more of a reaction out of Joyce, and she startled, blinking. Ethan misread the reasoning behind the reaction. “Oh yes, Rupert and I go way back,” He drawled casually, as if the gleam in his eyes wasn’t obvious. “And we are _much_ more similar than he’ll have you believe.” Ethan grinned like a shark. Then he looked thoughtful, for a moment, and partially turned away as if pretending he were in his own world now. “I wonder if he ever fucked her in that library?”

Joyce flinched and closed her eyes for a second, and Buffy winced.

Ethan apparently didn’t know that Joyce knew (mostly) about her relationship with Giles, and was trying to use it against her. Joyce knew his crude accusations weren’t true, but they still weren’t great to have to listen to.

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Joyce sassed, and he stopped and turned on his heel to face her, wearing another pout on his face now.

“ _Nothing_ ? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it. Even once, to be immediately dismissed? Well let me tell you, if you knew the Ripper that _I_ knew, you’d _never_ let your little girl alone with him. _Especially_ not for this… ‘ _training_ ’ they get up to. Oh, yes, I’m sure they’re _getting up_ to _something_ ; all those hours together, in close quarters. Touching. Sweaty, and panting.”

Joyce opened her mouth to insult him, but he quickly raised his voice over her,

“You probably think Little Miss Buffy is going to come crashing through that door any minute, don’t you?” He tilted his head, as if in pity.

“ _You_ don’t know the first thing about either one of them.” Joyce blurted, and he scoffed.

“Oh, but I do.” His tone dropped dangerously low, as he slowly began to pace again. “As I mentioned, we go back. You see, Ripper came from class, and he always preferred the taste of class. He took our little rag-tag group of tramps and turned us into real con-artists. It was, honestly, brilliant to watch him work,” Ethan grew almost dreamy eyed, truly caught up in memory now, “Play up the sweet, charming, bumbling boy. Win the parents over, win the girl over, whichever he needed. And while the parents were out, we would sneak into the house and steal the goods…” He grinned lewdly. “And he would make sure the girl stayed _thoroughly_ distracted. I must admit, I’ve always been jealous of Ripper’s way with the ladies. He could get them to do anything…. Sometimes I’d watch. Sometimes, I’d join. He could draw forth a woman’s _deepest_ , most _private_ fantasies.”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. While Ethan was… crude, Buffy knew that he wasn’t exactly _lying_ about the things they’d done in their younger years. Plus, she had to agree that Giles _did_ have a way of making her feel… like the only woman in the world. Like the _only_ object of his focus when they were being intimate. And he also did have a way of making her, well, brave, in that department as well.

He was a good man now, however - the goodest - and didn’t deserve the wrong choices of his past to be touted like that - especially toward _her mother_. She still remembered quite viscerally how terrified and quiet Giles had been, the night she and him stayed up talking all about Ripper. How he had thoroughly convinced himself that Buffy would no longer love him after she knew all of his truths.

And how softly and earnestly she held him afterwards, kissing every inch of his face and neck, pulling him over top of her on the bed, cradling him close with her arms and her legs around him and his face buried against her neck until he fell asleep like that, clutching her just as tightly.

Giles has paid his dues, and then some. He was even almost at the point of forgiving himself… at least, Buffy hoped so.

Joyce couldn’t help but look appalled by Ethan’s words. Ethan clicked his tongue against his teeth again, and shook his head slowly in disappointment.

“Joyce. What kind of mother lets her daughter be alone with that kind of man?”

“Were you going to slit my throat, anytime soon?” Joyce complained sharply. Ethan blinked, for a split second frustration showing that he wasn’t getting to her, but then he fussed with his shirt cuffs, and pretended to look thoughtful again.

“And your daughter, _the Slayer_ to boot.” He shook his head again, and Joyce narrowed her eyes. “He always was obsessed with the Slayer, even when he was rebelling against the old phonies in his ‘prestigious Council’.” He said that bit in a mocking voice, and then continued as if introspective, “Always wondered what it would be like to have one.” He paused, and looked toward her sideways. “And what it would be like to _have_ one, if you get my meaning.”

Joyce scowled at him and rolled her eyes, and he bristled.

“I’ve seen the mail,” He accused, “piled up on the table. All for one Miss Buffy Summers. She hasn’t been home to see Mummy in a long while, has she? And you think she’s just going to suddenly show up now?” He scoffed derisively. “Well I know she’s not, because I’ve been keeping an eye on dear old Rupe the last few days, and she’s going to be too busy with his cock stuffed -”

“Buffy!” Faith called out as she burst into the yard, rounding the house for the front door, finally arriving.

Buffy didn’t hesitate a second longer before throwing herself through her mother’s bedroom window, rolling to the floor in a crash of glass. She clotheslined Ethan at the knees and knocked him to the floor, relieved that at least he didn’t seem to have that protective forcefield Giles had been worried about. She quickly hopped to her feet, and flung her hair out of her face.

“Hi Mom.” She greeted, and Joyce gave her a relieved look.

“Hi, honey.”

Ethan was a bit more spry than she expected, and kicked her away from him, back against the wall. As he scrambled for the door, Buffy heard Faith running up the stairs to block his exit. There was a grunt and the sound of bodies colliding, followed by a tumbling down the stairs.

“Stay here!” Buffy ordered her mom, before darting after the other two. They were in the foyer in front of the dining room now, trading punches that Ethan was taking surprisingly well. He blocked quite a few of Faith’s moves, and even those that landed didn’t seem to faze him much. He definitely had some kind of magic mojo going on, then.

“And who is _this_?” Ethan purred curiously, during a moment when Faith had him against the wall by his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you punch like the Slayer.” His voice was choked off a bit by her hand around his neck, but he spoke as if he were the one in control of the situation.

“Clearly,” Faith huffed with a smirk, “you _don’t_ know better. I’m the new and improved version.”

His eyes glittered at that but then she threw another punch that he only half blocked. He followed it with a burst of some kind of magical energy that sent her flying into the display hutch across the room.

Buffy rushed forward to take her place, which Ethan was apparently ready for. All he did was hold his hand out toward her, and suddenly she couldn’t move. She growled and squirmed, but he had her frozen in place. The back of her neck, her supposedly dormant tattoo, burned. Ethan grinned.

“Hello, dear.” He murmured, like an old friend or even an old lover, and Buffy scowled as he drew closer.

He had something in his hand, but she couldn’t see it clearly, and he kept it partially behind him for the time being. She’d caught the glint of light against it though, so assumed it was a knife.

“I was hoping you’d bring ol’ Ripper along, but you’ve surprised me, I admit. Is that an agreement of yours? He stays out of the field, if you stay in his bed? I remember how you worry for him.” Ethan all but purred that last bit, as if he found the idea cute.

Buffy jerked hard against her invisible bonds, and apparently moved more than he expected, because he paused warily for a moment. He relaxed again when it was obvious she hadn’t freed herself, and at the clattering of Faith getting back to her feet behind him, casually tossed another burst of energy over his shoulder, sending her back onto the floor, curses muttered from her mouth as she was half-buried in what remained of the hutch and its contents.

Ethan’s head turned toward the opened front door as the sound of approaching police sirens grew louder, and he smiled grimly.

“I had plans for _Ripper_ , you see, but…” He glanced back to Faith before smiling again. “I think I can still manage quite the chaos here, with what you’ve given me to work with.”

“Let me _go_!” Buffy grumbled, wriggling again, frustrated and pissed off that she had no way to fight against his magic.

“Don’t like being tied up, hm?” Ethan clucked his tongue sadly. “That must be so disappointing for Rupert.” He grasped one of her hands with almost the gentleness of a lover, using his magic to help lift it up between them, heedless of her struggling against him. He stared hard into her eyes the whole time as he lowered his head to press a hard, open-mouthed, teeth-scraping kiss to her palm.

She grimaced and tugged against his grip, but it did nothing. Then she saw the glinting metal in his other hand again, just as Faith steadied her bearings and launched herself at them.

“Faith! Knife!” Buffy tried to warn her, but it wasn’t a knife, it was some kind of contraption with rings attached to it. Ethan slipped it onto Buffy’s hand he’d just kissed; a ring each on her thumb, first finger, and third finger. Then he twisted away from Faith’s grasp, using her momentum against her to grab her wrist and slap her palm against Buffy’s. The magic hold on her forced her to curl her fingers around Faith’s, and hold on.

Both girls stared in confusion as the metal thing began to glow between them.

“I’d love to stay and watch the fireworks, but you know, I think I might’ve _finally_ learned my lesson about staying and gloating.” Ethan gave them a little wave as he stepped backwards through the doorway into the kitchen, intending to slip out the back. “I’ll be seeing you, Slayer…s. Very soon.” He didn’t seem too wrong-footed about his brief verbal stumble, and grinned again before quickly disappearing out of the house.

Only seconds later did Buffy feel the magical hold on her finally release, but her body immediately collapsed to the ground as if she’d been completely sapped of energy. Faith went down, too, and she scowled as she held her hand to her chest and rubbed her palm as if it’d been burned.

“What the hell was that thing?” She growled, and Buffy hurriedly shook it free from her hand.

“Don’t know. A power dampener?” She turned her head toward Faith as she managed to push herself up to her elbow. She felt out of breath, however, and gestured at the other Slayer. “Can you destroy it? I can’t… move.” Buffy fell onto her back again with an exhausted gasp of air. Ethan had definitely done something to weaken her. She could only hope that it was temporary.

“My pleasure,” Faith grumbled, and lifted her leg up to smash the heel of her boot against the contraption. There was a small burst of magic emitted from it, but nothing else happened. Faith fell back to the floor as well, beside Buffy, and frowned at the ceiling in frustration. “I thought Giles said it’d be _easy_ taking care of that guy with the both of us.”

“He’s never actually fought back that hard, before.” Buffy admitted. “Usually he just… runs away from me.” She was relieved to feel her energy returning, and was gingerly getting back to her feet when her mom hesitantly came down the stairs. Faith stood as well, and brushed her jeans off as she popped some of the bones in her neck.

“My God, are you girls alright?!” Joyce exclaimed.

“Uh, sorry about the house, Mrs. J.” Faith apologized awkwardly, glancing around at the damage to some of the furniture and the walls.

“We’re okay, Mom.” Buffy assured her. “He’s gone.”

“Who _was_ \- have I seen that man before?” Joyce wondered incredulously, and Buffy winced.

“Uh… remember the magical chocolate candy last year?”

Joyce blinked once, and then groaned, heavily, and covered her eyes with her hand.

“Magical chocolate?” Faith asked with interest.

“Before your time,” Buffy did _not_ want to talk about the details of _that_ day right now, and most certainly not with Faith. Joyce had lowered her hand by now, and was frowning thoughtfully.

“He really does know Giles, doesn’t he.” She figured. “Those things he was saying-”

“Mom-” Buffy winced.

“Police!” Three uniformed officers poured through the still-open front door, then.

“Give it up for Sunnydale’s finest.” Faith smirked, and looked at the watch on her wrist. “Only… five minutes too late.”

**... ... ...**

The police were well familiar with Ethan Rayne, and assured them that they had an APB out on him. They kept a patrol car out front on the street for the night, and told the ladies to call immediately should he return, before they left the house.

Buffy sighed heavily as she closed the front door behind them, and closed her eyes as she leaned back against it.

“Look at this,” Joyce said lightly, “Hardly any word all school year, and then two visits in the same month,” Buffy opened her eyes, but Joyce quickly added, “I know how it is. You’ve got… so much in your life now. I mean, you’ve told me about the Initiative and all of that drama…”

Faith slowly stepped back, drifting out of the conversation and toward the kitchen, soon heard rummaging through the refrigerator.

“I’ve been a busy little beaver,” Buffy quipped, agreeing, just as awkwardly as Joyce was speaking. She tried not to think of her busy-ness with Giles, or the issues with Walsh she hadn’t actually gone into detail about… or Giles… Oh, for crying out loud.

“Of course… But, um,” Joyce gave her a long, searching look, and Buffy waited with bated breath. “Perhaps we could _really_ catch up?”

Buffy knew she was giving her mother a deer-in-the-headlights look, but she couldn’t help it.

“I haven’t seen you for over a semester, other than the other night,” Joyce pointed out softly, not blaming Buffy. After all, she’d ended up being gone over the holiday breaks that Buffy’d had, so the blame was not all one-sided.

“Real catching up.” Buffy repeated. “You betcha.”

“About more than just the Slaying?” Joyce clarified with a rueful smile, and Buffy nodded. Joyce continued to stare at her for a moment longer, unmoving, her smile now looking a little thin. “When you were-”

“I’m gonna take a shower!” Buffy blurted then, before her mom could gather up the courage to ask another question possibly about Giles, and she bolted up the stairs.

**— — —**

When she opened her eyes in the morning, she knew immediately that she wasn’t in the same place that she’d fallen asleep last night.

Faith hopped to her feet and glared around the room… Buffy’s room… but she was alone. Tilting her head to listen, she couldn’t hear the other Slayer moving about the house, either. Anyway, they didn’t do sleepovers - and she had _definitely_ gone to sleep in her own bed, in the hotel room, next to Wesley’s bed.

She checked her arms next, for any signs of needle marks to suggest that she’d been drugged - and then she sucked in a breath and held both arms out in front of her at the same time.

Those weren’t her hands… weren’t her arms. They were Buffy’s arms. She turned toward the mirror.

“What the hell?” She demanded, Buffy’s reflection looking back at her.

**... ... ...**

“Giles!” She called out, knocking on the door incessantly until it finally opened.

“Good lord - Buffy?” His countenance relaxed somewhat when he saw ‘Faith’. “I didn’t expect you this morning,” He smiled as he stepped to the side to let her in, his face going all warm and soft in a way she’d never seen before… a way no one has ever looked at _her_ before. It made her uncomfortable.

“Uh…”

“Why didn’t you just use your key?” He asked, not registering her hesitance or discomfort.

“Oh. Right. ‘Cause I have a key, duh…” She thought quickly for an excuse as she stepped inside the apartment. “I, uh, forgot it.”

“No lasting injuries from dealing with Ethan, I hope,” He murmured, running his hand down her arm as he closed the door behind her, and then went off toward the kitchen. ‘Faith’ stared after him, glanced down at her arm, and then looked at him again.

“Nothing… life threatening,” She hedged, slowly stepping further into the apartment. He was pulling a pitcher of orange juice out of the fridge - no doubt freshly squeezed, the dork - and pouring a glass, which he then slid across the counter toward her.

She sipped at it gingerly as he left the kitchen to come back around toward her; she wasn’t the biggest fan of orange juice, but remembered that Buffy was, so he was likely expecting this.

“So… what couldn’t wait until our Scooby meeting this afternoon?” Giles wondered lightly, a hint in his tone making ‘Faith’s’ eyes immediately narrow. Now _that_ , she recognized. Though, not coming out of Giles’ voice. He stepped close to her, easily comfortable in her space, and slid his fingers across her bare shoulder, and partway down her arm again.

‘Faith’ inwardly patted herself on the back for her choice with the slim black tanktop this morning, and slowly smiled as she set the glass on the counter.

She’d _always_ been a bit curious about Giles, and could not resist the opportunity to take a little advantage.

“I think you know,” She tried, at the last minute remembering to make her tone more light and coy, Buffy-esque, rather than her normally assertive attitude.

His lopsided smile was startlingly sexy, and she inwardly cheered yet again - she _knew_ he was a hound dog all along! She tilted her chin up slightly, and he didn’t hesitate at all to lower his head and kiss her soundly.

And kiss her. And _kiss_ her. _And_ -

“Wow,” She said appreciatively when they eventually parted, staring at his mouth as he smiled smugly. She admired the look on him, and considered kissing him some more. “You do know how to kiss.” Buffy hadn’t been lying.

“So you’ve said,” He grinned, tilting his head to brush his mouth down the side of her neck.

“I have?” She blurted, distracted, amazed by how easily he had this body responding to him. He paused, and she rambled, not wanting him to pull away yet, “Of course I have, ‘cause we kiss all the time. And I say stuff like that.”

He slowly lifted his head back up, to her disappointment.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” He sounded more teasing than suspicious, and she nodded quickly.

“Damn peachy, so long as you get that mouth back down here.” She proclaimed, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him down. Buffy was a tiny bit shorter than Faith, which was a weird feeling for Faith but luckily Giles was used to kissing this mouth. He chuckled against her lips, a loose and easy sound she’d never heard from him before, and for a brief moment she felt truly jealous of Buffy. The only laughing that men usually did with Faith was the lusty kind, and while she wasn’t normally into the whole pre- or post-sex cuddling, fluffy stuff… this felt actually kind of nice.

This body might be unfamiliar to her, but it wasn’t to Giles, and he kissed her with a certain kind of confidence, a kind of knowing, that she realized she sort of wanted for herself. Not from him, though. Yeah, he was a hell of a kisser, and she’d still bet money that he knew how to have a proper roll in the hay, but… this wasn’t just some stranger that she would leave in the hotel room in the morning (or this case, leave his apartment). He wasn’t some random broad’s boyfriend. He was Giles, and he was Buffy’s… and as much as Faith liked to cause a little ruckus, she couldn’t bring herself to go that far. They’d helped her back when she’d really needed it… when she hadn’t even _known_ just how much she needed it.

So when he hesitated again, and pulled away to questioningly repeat, “Damn peachy?” She let him, and she let go of him and took a step back. She licked her lips and then opened her mouth to admit the truth of who she really was, but an urgent knock on the door interrupted her.

“Are you expecting Willow?” Giles asked, confused, and she hesitated before slowly shaking her head. “It’s rather early for Xander,” Giles mused as he turned for the door, licking his own lips as he smoothed his hand down his tie. He opened the door, revealing what Faith had suspected… Buffy. Well, Faith’s body.

‘Faith’ sighed quietly. Party time was over, anyway, now.

“Faith?” Giles greeted in surprise, and ‘Buffy’ trailed her eyes from him toward the room behind him.

“Buffy,” She corrected him, but when her gaze landed on ‘Faith’ standing by his desk, she pushed passed him and stalked up to her.

“Buffy?” He questioned, closing the door slowly, looking at ‘Faith’, thinking something Slayer-related was going on.

“Faith.” ‘Faith’ corrected him with a rueful sigh, and his frown deepened as he looked between the two of them.

“Buffy.” ‘Buffy’ corrected him again, more pointedly and annoyed, putting her hands on her hips in a very Buffy fashion that looked ridiculous in Faith’s body.

Giles blinked, clearly lost now.

“Alright, Abbott and Costello. What’s going on?” He asked, sounding a little bit tired now. “If this is some sort of joke between you, I’m afraid I do need to be getting to the shop to open…”

“Did you do this?” ‘Buffy’ demanded of ‘Faith’, who immediately lifted her hands in an innocent gesture.

“As much fun as this morning has been, no, this wasn’t me.”

‘Buffy’ opened her mouth to argue, clearly not entirely believing her, but then her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Fun?” She repeated. “What do you mean, _fun_? What _kind_ of fun?” She turned that dangerous look toward Giles, who automatically took a step back from her.

Faith had to admit, if that was how she usually looked when she was pissed, no wonder so many demons were terrified of her. Cool.

Giles still looked immensely confused, and a bit unsettled by ‘Buffy’s’ ire, but was still defensive,

“You know very well that’s none of your business.”

‘Buffy’ gaped angrily at him, his answer rather telling on its own.

“It’s _exactly_ my business!” She glared at him a little closer, and then at ‘Faith’ again, who couldn’t help but quickly dart her tongue against her lips again, wondering if they looked as just-kissed as they felt. ‘Buffy’ looked horrified, then. “You _made out_ with my boyfriend?!”

“Hey, _he_ kissed _me_!” ‘Faith’ defended, and then couldn’t help but grin a little, “It was fuckin’ nice, too. Can you blame me?”

“Yeah, I can!” ‘Buffy’ exclaimed incredulously, and punched her in the face before she could block it.

“Hey,” Giles started to butt in, but ‘Buffy’ elbowed him back without looking at him and ‘Faith’ held her palm up to tell him to stay back. She touched her fingers to her nose, which now bled a little, and chuckled.

“That’s okay, I deserved that.” She gave ‘Buffy’ a warning look at the fists she still held clenched at her sides. “Don’t expect to get another one in. I was about to tell him the truth, when you showed up.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?!”

“What truth?” Giles demanded, becoming more annoyed himself, but they both ignored him.

“Hey, you wanna hit me again?” ‘Faith’ suddenly grinned again, and held her hands out to either side. “Go for it. It’s your own face you’re busting up.”

‘Buffy’ hesitated, ‘Faith’s’ smirk widened, and Giles slowly looked unsure. Then, ‘Buffy’ punched herself in the nose, hard.

“Ow!” She immediately winced, and held her hands against her bleeding nose, and ‘Faith’ frowned, protesting,

“Hey!”

Giles swallowed, and slowly took a step away from both of them, taking in their mannerisms.

“Buffy…?” He carefully realized, looking at the woman who _looked_ like Faith, and she glowered at him over her knuckles.

“Now he gets it.”

He paled, and looked at ‘Faith’.

“Faith?” His eyes flitted over what appeared to be Buffy’s body, just briefly.

“Sorry,” She said, somewhat sincere. “You were so happy to see Buffy, I didn’t wanna rain on your parade.”

‘Buffy’ snarled and shifted as if to attack her again, and Giles quickly grabbed onto her arms and held her back.

“My furniture cannot take two fighting Slayers, please.” He begged, and then slowly turned ‘Buffy’ to face him, peering closely into her eyes that looked like Faith’s… but now, seeing them clearly, there was a softness and a love and a hurting that Faith herself never would have shown. “Dear lord.” He exclaimed softly, letting her go and stumbling back as he pondered both ladies. “H-how…?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out.” ‘Buffy’ replied in a clipped tone, folding her arms across her chest. “How _happy_ were you, exactly, to see- …‘me’?”

“I- I-” Giles flushed. “I didn’t know, B-Buffy,”

“Relax, B,” ‘Faith’ sighed dryly, “It was just a kiss.”

‘Buffy’s’ lip twitched angrily again, however. She _knew_ how Giles kissed; how he made every single one seem incredibly important, no matter its intensity, how he treated it like an art form. Giles seemed to recognize that lip twitch, at the very least, even being on a different face, and he quickly reached for the phone.

“We s-should convene the others,” He suggested urgently, “I d-don’t think this should, um, wait, until this afternoon.”

‘Buffy’ folded her arms across her chest.

“No, it probably shouldn’t.”

He visibly winced, again, and kept his eyes downcast toward the phone as he dialed.

“So what’d you tell Wes?” ‘Faith’ wondered, and ‘Buffy’ glared at her for a moment before replying tersely,

“He was still asleep when I left. I was a bit freaked and didn’t want to wait to have to figure it out with him, before I came here.” Her jaw clenched and her fingers tightened around her arms, but she didn’t otherwise make a move toward ‘Faith’ again. “Seems like that was a good idea on my part.”

“Hey, I swear I wasn’t gonna actually do him,” ‘Faith’ insisted, and Giles made a sort of strangled, despaired noise that he then had to make an excuse for to the others on the phone.

“Please, as soon as you can,” Giles said quickly, and then hung up the phone and grasped ‘Buffy’s’ arms again as she lunged toward ‘Faith’. “Fai- er, Buffy,” He protested, concerned and exasperated and probably a hundred other things as well. ‘Buffy’ shrugged him off, rather roughly.

“Don’t touch me,” She muttered, stalking toward the hall, “I can’t even look at either of you.”

‘Faith’ wasn’t really all that bothered - Buffy got into a snit, pouted and stomped her feet, and then got over it. That was just how she was. Looking at Giles, though, actually made her feel a bit bad… the guy looked like she might as well have gutted him. His hands hovered in the air for a second, and then he stuffed them into his pockets and ducked his head, staring down at his shoes.

“She’ll get over it.” ‘Faith’ offered up carefully, grimacing at the awkwardness of the situation. This was _exactly_ the kind of drama she enjoyed _avoiding_ , out in L.A. And it was why she only hooked up with strangers, too. And why she never hung around to deal with the fallout…

“You should have said something, immediately.” He muttered lowly, and ‘Faith’ swallowed, nervously shifting her weight slightly on her feet. She’d heard Giles use that tone only a couple of times before. He was seriously pissed.

She supposed she deserved that, but, she still didn’t regret kissing him.

“I should have.” She decided to agree. But she wasn’t gonna apologize.

After a minute of painfully uncomfortable silence, he fled to the safety of his kitchen and the ritual of tea-making. ‘Faith’ picked up her glass of orange juice and went into the living room to sit, lounging across the couch, feigning nonchalance. The fresh-squeezed stuff actually wasn’t so bad.

A tiny part of her was actually sort of worried if Buffy _didn’t_ get over it. Her intention hadn’t been to do anything drastic like put a rift between the two, or split them up. Just because _she_ didn’t like working on a team didn’t mean that she couldn’t see a good thing when it was in front of her - they were kickass, as Watcher and Slayer.

And as for the other stuff between them… well, secretly, Faith was sort of rooting for them.

Not that she would _ever_ tell _anyone_.

**... ... ...**

Buffy didn’t come out of the bathroom until she heard the others piling into the apartment, all chattering amongst themselves and asking questions, and she made a point of settling herself before she joined them.

They needed to deal with one issue at a time - _she_ needed to deal with one issue at a time. Otherwise, she might just say or do something that she would later regret.

Giles was standing behind the safety of his counter, watching her warily as she stepped out of the hall to join the others in the main room. She glanced halfway in his direction, but couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. His eyes that hadn’t recognized her, that _still_ wasn’t quite sure about the situation, even after having peered deeply into her face.

_She’d_ recognized him as a _demon_ , for heaven’s sake. Why hadn’t he taken one look at fake-Buffy and just… known that it wasn’t her?

She shook the hurt away and focused on the first task at hand - explaining the sitch to the gang.

“Hey, guys,” ‘Buffy’ greeted them slowly, seeing that Xander, Willow, Tara, Oz, _and_ Anya had come. They all returned her greeting pleasantly enough, and then turned toward ‘Faith’ who was just rising from the couch.

“What’s going on?” Oz wondered. “I thought we had a Scooby meeting planned for later today.”

“Is there an update on Ethan?” Willow asked hopefully.

‘Buffy’ shared a glance with ‘Faith’, both of them blinking, startled by the change in their positions. Buffy suddenly understood why Faith had been so closed off and distant in the beginning - _she_ was _a Slayer_ , just the same as Buffy, but it was obvious who everyone saw as the go-to, the leader, the one with all the answers… they hadn’t even considered asking their questions to who they thought was Faith.

She sort of understood why Faith preferred to work alone - or, at least, with only Wesley, who was certainly too submissive to cause any real troubles with Faith’s innate desire to be in charge.

“Should I just come right out and say it?” ‘Faith’ wondered, half-grinning, and ‘Buffy’ sighed, shrugging.

“Not like we can explain this any easier.”

“I’m Faith.” Buffy’s body announced.

“And I’m Buffy.” ‘Buffy’ added dryly, from Faith’s body.

Everyone stared between them, and then burst into snorts and chuckles.

“Fun-ny,” Xander pointed between them. “You’ve even got each other’s facial expressions down!”

Giles clattered the tea dishes suddenly, but when ‘Buffy’ glanced over toward him, his head was ducked and he was focused on anxiously rearranging the items on the tray. She inwardly sighed, and told herself to take it easy on him… to forgive him.

Because if she really thought about it, she _knew_ why he hadn’t considered the possibility that ‘Buffy’ hadn’t really been Buffy - one, why would he have suspected? And two… well, it wouldn’t have been the first time she spontaneously appeared at his home or the shop just to get some smoochy time in.

‘Buffy’ sighed, aloud, and stepped forward.

“This isn’t a prank. I woke up this morning in a hotel room, instead of my own bed. In Faith’s body, instead of my own.”

‘Faith’ nodded in agreement, and the others all gaped silently.

“W-what? How? What?” Xander demanded.

“Three excellent questions.” Giles muttered, sliding the tea tray onto the bar counter and then pacing out of the kitchen and toward one of his bookshelves, only to barely touch a spine before pacing back and shakingly making himself a cup of tea. He was agitated, and Buffy was tempted to reach out and soothe him, but she withheld the temptation. She was still a _little_ miffed, after all.

“It’s a true swap…” Tara murmured, and everyone except for Giles turned to give her confused looks. She blushed at the attention, but continued, “W-well, a person’s energy has a flow. A unity. Buffy’s is… fragmented. Faith’s too. It grates, like something was forced where it doesn’t belong.”

Most of the Scoobies then turned toward ‘Faith’, who looked defensive.

“I _swear_ I didn’t do anything.” She insisted.

“This is a magic mojo thing?” ‘Buffy’ checked with Tara. “A spell?”

“Possibly.” Tara nodded.

At this point, Giles had finished preparing his tea and was slowly stirring it, a thoughtful look on his face as he turned around to join the group that had, by now, subconsciously formed a bit of a circle. He glanced toward ‘Buffy’, both of them on the same page, and she gave him a serious look.

“Ethan.”

Realization dawned on ‘Faith’,

“That weird metal thing! I thought it didn’t work. Kinda seemed like it was supposed to be an immediate thing.”

“I don’t know,” ‘Buffy’ shrugged, “Maybe our Slayer mojo slowed it down or something. He _did_ say he’d initially wanted to do something to Ri- er, Giles.”

Giles looked at her sharply.

“He was going to… switch himself with me?” He frowned. “Whatever for?”

“Um, hello?” ‘Faith’ pointed out. “Freedom from the Initiative? They’re looking for the guy that _looks_ like Ethan, you think they’re going to listen to the man insist he’s actually Rupert Giles?” Then, she snorted, and raised her eyebrow appraisingly. “Plus, I’m pretty sure he was puttin’ the moves on Buffy. Wearing your skin, he’d get the chance for all the Slayer nookie he could ask for.”

Giles’ expression went dark at that, and everyone was quiet as he stood very still.

“What did he do?” Giles asked lowly, in a tone of voice that said he had a hundred ideas - memories - to choose from. Everyone knew he was asking ‘Buffy’ specifically, so they all stayed quiet. Xander even stopped chewing his cookie, freezing in concern.

“If there were any moves, I definitely missed it.” ‘Buffy’ insisted seriously. “He froze me up with some spell, took my hand, put the thing on - oh.” She realized, remembering, and then winced and scowled. Giles stared at her directly for the first time since she’d persuaded him that she was really Buffy in Faith’s body. “He kissed my hand, right before putting the machine thing on it. I thought he was just being smarmy, to piss me off.”

“He also called you dear,” ‘Faith’ piped up, and ‘Buffy’ glared at her. Making Giles get more pissed off wasn’t helping matters. “And said he’d see you again soon.”

“He used the plural!” ‘Buffy’ butted in quickly, but Giles was already looking apoplectic. Xander nervously, noisily, swallowed his mouthful of cookie. 

“I am going to kill him the next time I see him.” Giles announced plainly.

“Giles-” ‘Buffy’ stepped toward him, reaching her hand out to touch his arm, as she often did to help settle him.

He flinched before she touched him though, and she froze. He darted his eyes between her and ‘Faith’, and then ducked his head and turned away, lifting his tea cup up to his mouth.

Buffy lowered her arm and tried not to take that gesture personally. She still looked like Faith, after all, even if he did know who she was on the inside. It had just been an automatic reaction…

“A Draconian Katra spell!” Tara suddenly blurted, and once again, everyone turned toward her. “Uh… well… if- if we…” Too nervous, Tara ducked close to Willow’s ear, whispering, and Willow repeated her words for the others to hear,

“If we connect to the nether realm, we could possibly conjure up a Katra.”

Giles’ expression grew very serious in a different way, and he took a step closer to rejoin the group again.

“It should switch you guys back, if that spell really is the culprit.” Willow added.

“This is very high energy magic you ladies are talking about.” Giles noted carefully, his tone warning.

“If- if I act a-as Willow’s anchor, I can keep her on this plane.” Tara told him, confident behind her shyness, and he looked her in the eyes for a moment before making his decision.

“Alright.” He nodded.

“We’ll set up in the bathroom, out of everyone’s way? It shouldn’t take too long.” Willow announced brightly, but then glanced toward Tara. “Right?”

“It shouldn’t.” Tara confirmed, which was only somewhat comforting.

“Hold up!” Xander put his hand up. “An _anchor_? Keep her _on this plane_? Are we talking like, astral projection here?” He wondered incredulously, and Tara brightened.

“Yes!”

Xander blinked.

“Alright, Dr. Strange. I’m supply guy. Point the way.”

As the other four quickly went about setting up for the ritual, Anya stood where she was and stared at Buffy, Giles, and Faith. ‘Buffy’ was afraid to ask about the contemplative look on her brow. True to Anya’s nature, it soon didn’t matter that no one had asked.

“Which one would you have sex with?” Anya wondered.

“I beg your pardon?” Giles spluttered, as ‘Buffy’ gaped and ‘Faith’ smirked in surprised amusement.

“If they get stuck like that forever.” Anya clarified plainly. “And you had to decide which one you’ll be with.”

“I’m _with_ Buffy, that hasn’t changed!” Giles exclaimed hotly, but Anya was unfazed.

“But she doesn’t _look_ like Buffy, anymore. You won’t even let her touch your arm, now.” Anya pointed out, and ‘Buffy’ glanced away. It was ridiculous to think about right now, but… well, he _had_ kissed Faith-in-Buffy’s-body, but wouldn’t even let Buffy-in-Faith’s-body within reaching distance.

“This is ridiculous. And- and not helpful to the problem at hand.” Giles huffed.

“We’re waiting on the witches to do their thing.” Anya shrugged.

“I’m kind of curious.” ‘Faith’ piped up with a grin, and ‘Buffy’ glared at her.

“This is not a decision to be made,” Giles insisted, annoyed. “You’re talking about the heart and the soul of the woman I love.” He gazed softly at ‘Buffy’, finally, and she smiled slowly, warmly.

“Heart’s over here.” ‘Faith’ called out, then shrugged and grinned when they both gave her the same wry look. “Technically. Just sayin’.”

“So you’d have sex with Faith’s body.” Anya said definitively, and ‘Buffy’ made a weird face.

“No.” Giles said, and both ‘Buffy’ and ‘Faith’ looked affronted. He quickly clarified, “This isn’t a case of someone changing. They were switched against their will.” He spoke directly to the ladies in question, then, “It would not be fair to either one of you, no matter which… physical form I would choose.” Then he looked back to Anya, glaring a bit, “Because they aren’t just _bodies_. They have an ownership, of their own soul, and neither deserve to be used without the presence of their own right and true self.”

He took a breath, but everyone was silent. Anya smiled, pleased by his answer.

“You’d make a vengeance demon’s job very difficult, Rupert Giles.”

“Erm… thank you?”

There was another beat of silence, save for the chanting they could now hear faintly from the hall.

“You know,” ‘Faith’ eventually mused, “I think that’s the nicest anyone’s treated me.” Then she smirked, to dissuade the heaviness of her comment, “Or, ‘not treated’ me.”

“I can’t stay mad at you after that,” ‘Buffy’ sighed, lamenting, “And I _really_ wanna kiss you right now.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” ‘Faith’ said quickly, watching them with interest, and ‘Buffy’ rolled her eyes at her. “Just a kiss? I mean, tit-for-tat, right?” She gestured toward her, and Giles grumbled under his breath as he moved to set his tea cup on the counter.

“If it’s all the same, I’d like to wait until things are… back to normal.” He supplied, and ‘Buffy’ nodded in agreement, tucking her hands in her folded arms again.

“We’ve got it! By George, they’ve done it!” Xander came stumbling out of the bathroom in amazement, holding a little box in his hands with something green and glowing inside of it.

“That’s… the Katra?” ‘Buffy’ asked hesitantly as he held it aloft, and ‘Faith’ came closer to get a better look at it.

“I’ve decided I don’t much like glowing things.” She commented.

“Tara said,” Xander caught his breath from his excitement, and then finished, “You both hold it at the same time, and it’ll switch you back to rights.”

‘Buffy’ glanced toward Giles first, as she hesitantly reached into the little box, and though his brow was furrowed deeply as he watched them, he didn’t seem overly concerned by the object.

It felt oddly cool in her palm, and much heavier than its diminutive size. There was a beat where nobody moved or said anything, and ‘Faith’ huffed.

“Well, let’s stop wasting time,” She proclaimed, and slapped her hand atop ‘Buffy’s’, gripping her palm like they had with Ethan’s contraption.

Once again a glow overtook their clasped hands, but this time they were both conscious for the switch, and felt it happen.

They stared at each other oddly as they stumbled apart, and Faith immediately tossed the now plain looking rock at Xander, who fumbled it for a moment before securing it in his hand and tucking it back into the box. Buffy touched her hand against her chest, checking that she was really herself again.

“Thank God,” She sighed deeply, and Faith winced as she touched her nose.

“Damn, you hit me harder than you’d hit you!” She complained, prodding it to check that there weren’t any lumps and it wasn’t actually broken.

“Huh?” Xander wondered faintly.

“Nevermind,” Giles gently took the box from him and closed it up - although the object inside seemed benign now, he wasn’t going to take any chances - and he tucked it away inside of his desk drawer. “Go make sure the others are okay, help them clean up. Anya?” The ex-demon nodded and followed after her boyfriend.

She patted Giles on the shoulder as she passed him.

“Now you don’t have to worry about who you get orgasms from anymore.” She said brightly.

He scowled and raised his eyes to the ceiling, propping his fists on his waist. Faith snorted as she watched his reaction.

“We’d never have worked out, anyway,” She quipped. “You’re too good for me.”

“You’re bad boy enough for _me_.” Buffy assured him, and he straightened his head to give her a little pleased, albeit apologetic, grin. She gave him a serious look, for just a moment, but then released a soft noise and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head against his chest. “I’m sorry I got mad ‘cause you’re not some all-knowing intuitive mind-reader,” She mumbled against his shirt, and he cradled one hand against her head as he wrapped his other arm around her, returning her hug.

“You had good reason to be upset.” He reasoned soothingly, glancing over toward Faith to give her a chiding glare.

She pursed her lips and managed to look ashamed for half a minute, but there was still a certain spark of appreciation in her eyes.

“We must find Ethan.” Giles announced darkly. “I highly doubt this was his _only_ plan.”

Faith nodded, starting to look uncomfortable now, that Buffy still hadn’t pulled away from Giles.

“I’ll uh, go wake up Wes. Get him on the hunt with me.” She told them. Giles nodded as well, stroking his hand against Buffy’s hair. Faith hesitated, but only briefly, before drawing herself up and heading out of the apartment without another word.

“I can’t believe she did that.” Buffy grumbled, leaning her forehead against his chest.

“Can’t you?” He replied dryly, and then said, “Honestly… I do think that she had been about to tell me the truth, when you arrived. Normally, I would quite expect Faith to take her curiosity as far as it would lead her. However… she seems to, to have a certain respect, I suppose. In the very least because I am not _her_ Watcher.”

“I guess so…” Buffy begrudgingly admitted. “But still, she _kissed_ you. She knows how amazing you kiss now!” She whined, nuzzling her nose against his shirt. “I don’t want anybody knowing how good you kiss. They’ll steal you away from me!”

He chuckled softly at that, and slid both of his arms more firmly around her, squeezing her a little bit tighter against him.

  
“Oh, Buffy. Don’t you know? _No one_ has any hope of ever taking me away from you.” They shifted slightly so that she could look up at him, and he cradled her face between his hands. “I am completely, entirely, besotted with you. And even aside from being horribly in love with you, I am also your Watcher… you are my destiny, Luv. In more ways than one.”

Buffy stared up at him with wide, shining eyes, overwhelmed by his earnest and open emotion. His expression was soft and adoring, and he gently rubbed his thumbs against the curves of her cheeks. She wrapped her fingers around his waist, holding on, soaking in his warmth and his aliveness, falling into the beautiful distraction that were his eyes.

“They’re going to kiss soon, right?” Anya’s whisper from the hallway was not very quiet, and it startled them both. “This is where they should kiss.”

“Anya,” Xander fussed, his voice only marginally quieter than hers had been, and Buffy’s lips quirked a little, unable to completely hide her amusement at her friends.

Giles smiled and bent his head down to kiss her softly, keeping it tender for a few breaths, until Buffy’s hands slid around his back and up toward his shoulders, holding him more tightly again. Then he maneuvered his mouth a little, just enough until her weight leaned into him more, and only after that did he slowly end the kiss.

“Yeah,” Buffy breathed out in agreement, with a lopsided smile, as she read the _‘I love you’_ in his eyes.

“It worked, right?” Willow checked, sounding a bit out of breath, and Buffy shifted to face them all, reaching up to card her fingers between Giles’ so that she could hold his arm around her shoulder. “That was Buffy-Buffy that I just saw macking on Giles, right? I hope.”

“All me.” Buffy confirmed, noticing that both the ladies looked a bit worn out. “Do you two need to sit down for a minute?” She asked with some concern, and Giles pulled away to hurry into the kitchen. She was mildly disappointed by that, but focused on leading her friends toward the couch.

“Some juice, you may feel dehydrated,” Giles suggested as he pulled two glasses from the cabinet and the orange juice from the fridge.

“What happened?” Buffy worried, and Willow gave her a comforting, albeit brief, smile.

“Nothing too wigsome. Just took a bit out of me.” She promised.

“No kidding.” Xander commented. “You two look like you just ran five miles.”

“Thanks,” Buffy murmured to them both, and Tara gave her a warm, almost motherly kind of look.

“Of course.”

Giles came in and handed them both their juice, while Xander and Oz put away leftover spell supplies and threw away what had been used.

“Wes and Faith are probably checking Willy’s for any signs of Ethan - we should check the motels.” Buffy advised Giles, who agreed, his lips pressed in a tight, firm line now.

“I reserve the right to give him a good thrashing.” Giles insisted, his tone brooking no argument. Buffy was hesitant about how far he might just take that, but she kept quiet about it for now.

After all, she wouldn’t mind getting a good view of Giles kicking Ethan’s ass.

Just the thought of that dangerous glint in his eyes made her tingle in unmentionable places.

**... ... ...**

Giles thought of every name he’d ever known Ethan to use aside from his own, but they had no luck with the motels. He was getting frustrated, too, so Buffy sent him back home, reminding him that it was still possible that Ethan could try to contact him there.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours, okay? I want to swing by the gallery and check in on Mom. Some of the stuff Ethan said to her… well, I really don’t want her marinating on it for too long.” She kissed him softly on the lips as a goodbye, but when he straightened, his brow was furrowed in confusion.

“Ruminating, I think you mean.” He soon figured, and then the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, and she flushed and rolled her eyes.

“Marinating works, too.” She huffed, stepping back from him, and his smile widened a little.

“Yes, if she’s a turkey.” He teased, and she huffed and punched his arm, but then snickered. “Ow!” He pretended that it hurt, as he always did, and she winked at him.

“I’ll see you soon… and if the others were hiding out elsewhere that isn’t your apartment, I’d be okay with that too,” She wiggled her eyebrows, and he looked mildly exasperated as well, now.

“Buffy.” He gently chided her, and she sighed in lament.

“Fine… smoochies _after_ we kick Ethan out of town, _again_ , then.”

“You act as if you’ve been deprived,” He was teasing her again, though they were a few steps further away from one another now. “It’s only been a handful of days since we were last - erm, together,” He glanced around them, at the last minute remembering that they were out on the sidewalk in the middle of town in the middle of the day. Granted, they were miraculously alone at the moment.

“And you think that makes me want you _less_?” She returned loftily, and he blinked silently. She grinned widely then, and waved her fingers at him. “See you later, babe!” She called out happily, trotting off in the opposite direction, knowing that he was still standing there watching her walk away, likely with that mysterious little wistful smile on his face. She knew that he had to be blushing, too, because of the endearment said so cavalierly in public, and she smiled happily to herself, in a much better mood all of a sudden.

Until she decided to double-back over Faith’s patrol, and check Willy’s Place again.

Where she wasn’t honestly too surprised to find Ethan, sitting at a booth and eating lunch as if he had no problems in the world.

Immediately upon her entrance, a few of Willy’s patrons got up and shuffled out. Willy gave her a ‘come on’ look, and she held her hands up innocently, shaking her head once at him, and then pointed toward Ethan. She wasn’t here to cause trouble with his regulars - she was just here for the warlock.

Willy immediately relaxed, nodded, and leaned over to murmur something to the dark green scaly demon that was watching Buffy with a sidelong eye. He (or she, it was hard to tell from the distance and the lighting) seemed to begrudgingly return to their meal, though Buffy figured they were far from relaxed.

“Hey.” She slid into the booth across from Ethan only just as he was lifting his head to see who the new appearance was. He startled, a number of emotions flitting across his face too quickly for her to hold on to, until eventually he landed on a demure smile.

“Well.” He set his sandwich down on his plate and then picked up his napkin from his lap and dabbed his mouth with it. “Hello.” He gave her a long look, and then said, “Faith, I presume?”

Buffy realized that he thought she was still switched, and that he apparently had no way of knowing when his spell had worn off. Figuring she could use this to her advantage, she played along.

“What’d you do to me?” Buffy demanded to know. “How come I woke up in Buffy’s body?”

“How do you know that I didn’t just clone you?” Ethan challenged. He was going for blasé, but Buffy could tell that it was also a test.

“Because I didn’t wake up in my own bed?” She returned with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh? Who’s bed _did_ you awaken in, I wonder?” He purred, leaning forward a bit. Buffy gave him a second to wonder, and then told him dryly,

“Buffy’s. Alone.”

“Hm.” He made a disappointed noise and then sat back against the booth again, considering for a moment before he decided to continue eating his lunch. “I hope you don’t mind, I’m rather famished this afternoon.” He indicated before taking a bite. She shrugged, sitting back as well, and folded her arms across her chest as she watched him eat.

She tried to hide how furious she was, at how casually he was just out here living his life as if what he’d done was _okay_ . And with the evidence that he had, in fact, hoped for some kind of _drama_ between her and Giles!

She could hear Ripper in the back of her mind now, encouraging her to knock his teeth down his throat.

“Why don’t you talk and eat, pal,” Buffy advised him, slipping a little threat into her tone. “If I’m in Buffy’s body then that means she’s in mine, yeah? And who _knows_ what the hell she’s doing in it.”

“You’re concerned that Buffy Summers could be up to nefarious activities?” Ethan wondered incredulously, and while Buffy herself bristled at the insinuation that she was some kind of goody-two-shoes, she instead huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Have you _seen_ the way she dresses? I mean, this is the best I could do!” Buffy gestured down at herself, where she was still clad in the low-cut tank top and leather pants that Faith had dressed her in this morning. “She’s probably got me dressed as a soccer mom. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

Ethan chuckled at that, and nodded in acquiescence. Buffy didn’t miss how his eyes glanced appreciatively over her, either.

“It’s just a little bit of fun,” He soothed. “Not permanent.”

“That thing you attached us to last night,” Buffy pretended to just figure out, and he nodded again, once.

“Just a little… toy I, erm, acquired from a… friend.” He didn’t really explain, but knowing about his recent history, and knowing that there was likely tech and money behind that device, Buffy could hazard a guess.

It had been one of the Initiative’s projects, maybe even Walsh’s, and Ethan had somehow learned about how it worked. He’d smuggled it out of the base with him during his escape, either to switch with Giles long term and get away from the authorities, or, devise some situation similar to this and simply play with their lives a bit.

“It works in the reverse, as well.” Ethan explained casually, more focused on his sandwich than on her - or, at least, pretending to be. “Just get her to grab it along with you, again, same as before, and bob’s your uncle.”

“We destroyed it.” Buffy told him dryly, and he blinked.

“Oh.” For a moment he appeared legitimately consternated by that. “Well, no matter,” He quickly covered, though his brow was furrowed just slightly and she figured he was wracking his brain for a solution. “I’m sure there are spells that can provide the same result.”

“You’re _sure_?” Buffy repeated warningly, clenching her fist atop the table, and he seemed to finally remember that he was sitting across from a Slayer.

“There are!” He hurriedly amended, and then smiled as if to relax her. “There are.” Finished with his sandwich, he glanced down at the few remaining chips on his plate, and decided he was done with lunch. He wiped his fingers and his mouth once more before tossing his napkin onto his plate. “It just may take a little research-”

“Hey, buddy,” Buffy leaned forward just as he shifted to stand, and he froze. “I don’t want to be stuck as this blonde-headed bimbo forever. If you don’t start giving answers then we’re gonna start counting broken bones.”

He swallowed and grimaced, briefly touching the slightly crooked bridge of his nose for a second, likely remembering the last time Buffy had punched him. Then, he chuckled, to her surprise.

“Have you not considered?” He wondered lightly, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “The _fun_ you could have, my dear! Everyone assumes that you are _Buffy_. _Rupert_ assumes that you are Buffy.”

“What are you saying?” Buffy asked carefully, keeping her eyes narrowed, the hand he couldn’t see gripping the edge of the seat as she kept herself from lunging across the table and choking him.

He gave her a long look, and then smiled gently and stood slowly, fishing a few bills out of his wallet and dropping them to the table. Buffy had no doubt that none of it belonged to him. He gestured one arm out toward the door.

“Let’s not discuss this in public, hm?” He glanced toward Willy, who was trying to surreptitiously watch them from behind the bar, and only succeeding in making it very obvious that he was watching them. “I’m sure Buffy herself - or, excuse me, _‘Faith’_ \- will arrive here soon enough to fish out answers from the owner over there. Join me in my hotel room.”

Buffy gave him an unamused look, standing but otherwise not moving yet, and he chuckled again.

“Would I proposition a young lady capable of breaking me in two?” He asked in self defense, going so far as to put a hand on his chest, and Buffy continued to eye him even as she slowly walked ahead of him for the door, very aware of him following behind her.

“From what I’ve heard? Yeah.”

“Oh, the dynamic duo talk about me, do they?” He sounded delighted, strolling rather comfortably beside her as they headed toward - annoyingly enough - the first motel that Buffy and Giles had checked earlier. It was miraculous they hadn’t run into him as he’d headed toward Willy’s.

“Yeah.” She grunted, as if she didn’t care about the conversation - which she didn’t, really, but she also didn’t want her barbs to come across as _too_ personal. ‘Faith’ wasn’t supposed to have a long grudge against Ethan Rayne. “You’re annoying, you’re a weasel, and Giles likes to call you British words that start with ‘p’ and I’m pretty sure aren’t nice.”

Ethan laughed at that, and Buffy scowled.

“So you’ve taken _no_ advantage of your morning as Buffy Summers?” He asked with some surprise, and disappointment. Buffy hesitated for a moment. If he somehow knew anything at all about Faith, he’d probably _expect_ her to have done _something_.

“I didn’t say that.” She hedged, glancing around surreptitiously as they walked up a set of stairs that led to the second floor of the motel. She frustratingly confirmed that Giles was nowhere to be seen, having apparently followed her suggestion and returned home.

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued Ethan’s interest. “Do tell.”

“I stopped by Giles’ place first.” She told him, not giving him anything more than that.

“And?” He cajoled, and she pretended to be suspicious of him again, raising her eyebrow at him as she leaned against the wall and waited for him to unlock the motel room door.

“You some kind of pervert?” She questioned (half wondering it, for real), and he scowled and pushed open the door, gesturing for her to enter first.

“Certainly not.” He huffed.

Buffy eyed the room warily before stepping inside, not seeing any traps or sensing any magic - other than what Giles had told her a cloaking spell might taste like. And that was weird, being able to _taste_ it in the air, exactly as how he’d described it.

“Though, it doesn’t take a genius to know what the two of y- er, I apologize - _Buffy_ and he get up to in the wee hours of the morning.”

She could not help but give him a glare at that, and he shrugged and thankfully didn’t seem to become suspicious from it as he strolled over to the air condition unit and fiddled with the buttons.

“So bloody hot in this state…” He grumbled under his breath, and a part of her was briefly - very briefly - amused at how Gilesy he sounded just then. “So!” He straightened after the machine kicked on, and turned toward her with a smile. “From your - inaccurate, by the way - accusation of perversion, am I to understand that Rupert still doesn’t know who you really are?”

His eyes were glittering with excitement again, and Buffy couldn’t believe how somebody could be so pleased about somebody else’s discomfort. Especially when they were supposed to have been friends, in the past!

Then again… she reminded herself that their friendship had never been like hers with Willow, or with Xander. From Giles’ stories, they’d always been sort of frenemies… or, perhaps more accurately, siblings. Brothers who cared for one another but also got on one another’s last nerve, and even sometimes hurt each other.

“Don’t get too hot and bothered,” Buffy drawled, rolling her eyes and folding her arms against her chest to hide her fists beneath her elbows. “All… we did was kiss.” Oops, she’d almost said ‘they’. She needed to control her emotions and keep focused.

“Ah, but Rupe’s always had a particular talent with that mouth of his.” Ethan smiled crookedly, even fondly, and Buffy hoped to God her face didn’t go as pale as she felt it did. _Ew_. She _did not_ want to picture the two of them together now, any more than she ever did.

Suddenly she recalled a thought she had heard from Giles, back when she had the mind-reading issue going on. About how he’d _‘handled a penis before’_ , and how that thought hadn’t sounded as if he was referencing _his own_ penis.

Oh, God, she was going to throw up. Now she was thinking about Ethan’s penis!

“You look as if you disagree?” Ethan was standing closer to her now, peering at her, and she swallowed hard. “Don’t tell me he’s lost it in his old age.”

“Aren’t you older than him?” Buffy squinted at him, wanting desperately to change the topic.

“Only by a couple years,” Ethan brushed that aside. “Why did you leave without telling him the truth?” He wondered, and she knew he was testing her again.

“Well after _that_ there was no way in hell I was gonna tell him the truth. Are you kidding? He’s gonna be pissed as it is.” Buffy managed to explain herself rather indifferently. “Anyway, he said something about the shop - you know, the one he owns? He needed to go, and I didn’t wanna press too hard for more and seem, uh, out of character.”

“But you wanted more, right?” He asked with interest, leering a bit, and she side-eyed him.

“Thought you said you weren’t a pervert.” She commented, and he sighed as if she tired him.

“Excuse me for wanting a little vicariousness. I’ve been… detained from any human contact for quite a few months now.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Buffy returned, not sorry at all, and perfectly fine making it sound that way.

“Hm…” Ethan mused, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a shark-like grin as he stepped even closer to her. It could have almost been a boyish look, the same sort of look that Buffy loved to see on Giles, except right now she was doing everything she could not to shiver in disgust and push him out of her space. She eyed him warily, wondering what he was up to, watching the way his gaze dipped down her body appraisingly.

“I heard you, you know.” Buffy mentioned suddenly, a part of her smugly proud at how she seemed to have fallen in rhythm to that particular ‘not-a-care-in-the-world’ tone of Faith’s. “Talking to Buffy’s mom. About how Giles had always wanted a Slayer?”

“Oh?” Ethan paused his visual perusal of her, and arched one eyebrow high, curious as to where she was taking this.

“You weren’t talking about Giles, were you,” Buffy mused, forcing a smirk on her face instead of the scowl that she really wanted.

Ethan considered her for a moment, and then grinned and chuckled, straightening as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked up on his toes a bit.

“Guilty.” He replied glibly, and chuckled again. “Oh, Ripper was curious, sure - but the real fantasies, they had been all mine…” His eyes trailed down her body again, growing flinty dark for a moment, and Buffy clenched her jaw and swallowed as she willed herself not to punch him in the face. He sighed, the expression gone. “But that was a long time ago.” He admitted, and then suddenly he lifted a hand up and trailed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. “Now that I have you here… well…” He slowly slid his knuckles down, twisting his wrist to run the pads of his fingers down her neck.

“Well?” She swallowed again, pushing down the bile that rose up as she shifted half a step closer to him. Maybe she could distract him enough for him to soften a little more, lower his guard completely, and then she could knock him out and tie him up before he got any spells out against her.

“I did my research on you, you know,” He began, briefly off-putting her by the seeming non sequitur. “After our… meeting yesterday evening. Imagine my _delight_ at such good fortune… you have quite interesting proclivities.” He sounded amused, his fingertips paused atop her collarbone, just drifting there for a moment.

“When it suits me.” Buffy replied coyly, knowing that he was talking about Faith’s… cavalier attitude toward a number of things.

“Hm.” He hummed again, pleased by that response, his fingertips sliding a little lower.

Oh God, if he actually tried to outright fondle her right now, she was gonna break his arm and then his face. But if she didn’t try to get more information out of him now, there was no way she would after binding and gagging him. Giles had assured her that, Ethan knowing they would never actually kill him, he would endure any forms of ‘torture’ they would perform without revealing his hand.

He’d been through far worse than anything Buffy would be willing to dish out, during their months calling on Eyghon.

Ethan sighed again, that resigned sound, though his fingers continued to draw nearer to her cleavage and the edge of her top.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the… energy for that kind of fun, tonight.” He lamented, looking sorely disappointed by the fact, and Buffy wondered if it had to do with the amount of magic he’d been performing the past few days. Giles had said, especially with him constantly hiding himself from location charms, he would likely exhaust himself if he didn’t have another source to draw power from, or give himself rest.

Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘Faith’ to protect him, while he slept? Buffy inwardly snorted at that. Even if she had really been Faith, Faith wouldn’t do that without some serious trade in return. She didn’t really know him from Adam (urgh, a saying Buffy suddenly never wanted to say again), and she had never enjoyed playing ‘bodyguard’ much, not even for the mayor who had at least had an interesting end goal to his nefarious plans.

“However,” Ethan was still talking, and a glint had appeared in his eye again, though of a different sort. Not that it comforted Buffy at all. She focused on paying attention to what he was saying, and held her breath when he curled the tip of his finger beneath the edge of her shirt. He tugged at it a little, but didn’t actually pull it down off her breasts, and eventually let it go - much to her relief. “I just had the loveliest idea for a little prank on dear Rupert.” He smiled that shark-grin again, and Buffy blinked, hoping that her discomfort was still well hidden.

“A _prank_?” She snorted, as if such things were childish and beneath her.

“I know, I know - it isn’t _world domination_ ,” He lamented, surprising her with just how much he really did seem to know about Faith’s past, or, at least, her past in regards to Sunnydale. “But I think you’ll have some fun.”

“What’s your gameplan?” She asked warily, not in a tone of worry, but as if she were still debating on giving him any more of her time.

Ethan shifted his hand to the side and ran his palm down her upper arm, a barely-there touch, looking toward the gesture instead of at her face.

“Standing in front of you now, I truly couldn’t possibly be intimate with you,” He informed her ruefully, and she scoffed and folded her arms across her chest.

“I never said I was gonna let you.” She returned, and for a second his eyes glinted again, likely in excitement at the challenge, but then he nodded in concession.

“You are quite lovely, but….” He seemed to slightly change direction, “But if we were to make Rupert _think_ that I had… that I’ve touched this body of the woman he loves most…” Ethan smiled in a wistful way as if the idea alone of Giles’ reaction gave him great pleasure, and Buffy had to bite down on her tongue to keep from throttling him.

She frowned as if she were considering his proposal.

“What’s the point?” She eventually asked after what she thought was enough time of thinking. “So you piss him off. Then what? What do you get out of that?” Then she quickly added, grateful that it had come to her, “What do _I_ get out of that?” She had to remember to keep sounding like Faith.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re understanding me, dear.” Ethan pulled away from her finally, to her internal relief, and paced happily across the floor as he tucked his hands back into his pockets. “Rupert has always been particularly defensive over the important ones.”

Buffy tried not to bristle at that comment, once more reminding herself that Giles’ past was his past just as her own was hers. It was only common sense that he would have had more in his past than she.

“Not that there were many.” Ethan amended, unknowingly making Buffy feel quite a bit better, and misreading her initial reaction. “But oh yes, my nose can easily recall one of the young lady’s he began the Academy with… that fist you’re currently borrowing hasn’t been the first to break my nose. When we first started running together, you see, Rupert was still just a boy really… rebelling against an overbearing father, against a calling that he didn’t want,”

Buffy knew these things, of course, and related to them. But she kept her expression uncaring, only mildly interested, for Ethan’s benefit. She reminded herself to keep him talking; it was better than when he got _touchy_.

“He didn’t become leader of our little gang, didn’t start to become _Ripper_ , until _after_ …” Ethan seemed both proud of himself, and guilty, at the same time. “Such a loss, really, but how was I to know at the time…”

Buffy knew this story, too. _Maurissa Stone_. A would-be Watcher, taken down too soon during what was officially described as a run-of-the-mill training patrol. Knowing that Ethan was waiting for a response, Buffy asked,

“Know what?”

“Just because you call a demon doesn’t mean that demon is forever indebted to you.” Ethan further explained his description of the events. “Particularly if you are only a fledgling warlock… I admit, I was a bit more bark than bite at the time,”

“You mean you aren’t, now?” Buffy quipped dryly, raising her eyebrow at him. He flashed an amused look toward her as he continued to pace.

“Oh, I have plenty of _bite_ , my dear… but if there is one thing those Summers’ women are right about, I _do_ like the sound of my own voice.” He admitted the fallback. “Anyway… we had just begun our foray into demon-calling. Our crimes were fairly low-risk, at that point, and I was… restless, I suppose. I had great power within me, I _knew_ that I did, and I was eager to prove it. I _craved_ to prove it. And by having my own demon on a leash, our group could own the streets.”

“Let me guess,” Buffy drawled, “you found out demons don’t like leashes.”

“Not any more than Slayers do.” Ethan nodded, teasing her, ‘Faith’, and she forced a little proud smile on her lips. “Rupert was still waffling between the gang and the Academy at this point, so when the Council caught wind of an unknown gang using a demon to move themselves up the ranks, Rupe was able to warn us. Unfortunately,” And Ethan did sound as if he truly thought it was unfortunate, at least now in his life, “the pompous idiots thought to use it as a training exercise. Rupe had to decide between outing his new friends and getting us all thrown to the mercy of the Council - which let me tell you, dear, you think they are heartless bastards now? If you only knew what they were like back then - or, working with his little band of trainees to take out the demon and arrest us all.”

“Let me guess,” Buffy didn’t have to guess. She ached with the same empathy she had felt when Giles had first told her this story, but hid it well as she had with everything else thus far. Remember to speak like Faith she said, “G chose the gang.”

“The demon ripped his little lady friend apart right in front of us all.” Ethan told her, his tone rather detached now. “What was worse, the Council’s clinical disregard for the loss. I believe Rupert’s words were something along the lines of, ‘An unworthy pawn, discarded from the chessboard and quickly forgotten’. Ironically, his anger at the Council was greater than his anger toward us, the ones who had summoned the demon in the first place.”

“So that was when he left the Council the first time.” Buffy-pretending-to-be-Faith figured.

“The final straw.” Ethan nodded, and then said, “He’d learned a lot during his time in the Academy, but what was even _more_ delicious,” Ethan was grinning again, “was all that knowledge he had from his formative years. His aunts taught him the ways of magic from a young age… he had a lot of talent all along, and he finally began showing his true self, his full self, to us. He summarily informed us that _he_ would be calling the shots, and show us how it was done, and by George… he did.”

As Giles himself had told Buffy, he’d been terribly, violently, angry those first few months. Mostly toward himself, but he took it out on others. The gang continued to call forth demons, and when they were finished ‘playing’, Giles had been in charge of disposal… using his magic to rip them apart, each one, just as his first fledgling love had been ripped apart in front of him.

‘Ripper’ had been born.

“Interestingly, we had a code, you know,” Ethan mused, fully caught up in memory now, memory that really didn’t matter to her or the situation at hand, but she let him continue to talk as she formulated a plan.

With his pacing, he wasn’t as relaxed as Buffy wanted him to be. Sure, he was _appearing_ comfortable in her presence, but she could tell that he wasn’t actually. She knew Ethan well enough to be aware of restlessness and twitchiness, something that he likely figured Faith wouldn’t know.

“We still never harmed the _truly innocent_ … not irreparably, anyway. We stole their belongings, and when we were itching for a scrap we harassed one of the other local gangs into a fight.”

Buffy knew that Ethan had never been very physical, not like Giles, Diedre, and Thomas. He wasn’t as ‘soft’ as Randall had been, either, but he was extremely selfish and had always cared more about saving his own hide. Buffy wondered if he would twist any of these stories to make him sound more like a brawler, tough-guy.

Surprisingly, he didn’t, but either way Buffy was tired of this. And honestly Faith would have been bored a long time ago.

“Is there a point to story-time, or what?” Buffy finally interrupted him, and he paused with his mouth still open mid-word, but then closed it. He blinked, considering for a moment, but then said,

“If Rupert believes that his beloved Buffy has been touched by another man, beyond her own control - by _me,_ especially, I have no doubt that he will react…” Ethan considered his choice of words, his eyes glittering with energy, “ _excitingly_.”

“Magic, you mean?” Buffy questioned, hoping that she sounded clueless about it. Faith was even less connected to that side of the supernatural than she was.

“Oh yes,” Ethan purred, suddenly sidling close to her again, touching her cheekbone once more. “Ripper is still the most powerful warlock I’ve ever seen… Just to have a taste of that again…”

“You’re in love with him.” Buffy realized in amazed horror, unable to keep that revelation to herself, and he sighed, lamenting as he dropped his hand back to his side.

“I was, once.” He told her truthfully, which surprised her even more. “But you understand,” He peered into her eyes directly, and for a moment she had the irrational fear that he would somehow know that she was really, actually, Buffy. “The call of power? How _wonderful_ the taste of it is?”

“Sure.” Faith’s love of being a Slayer was an easy aspect to play; her most obvious attribute. “So… you want him using his power again, then?” She gave him a look as if she thought he was off his rocker - which was not all that hard for Buffy regardless of the act she was putting on. “How’s that help you if _you’re_ the one he’s using it _against_?”

“Because, Miss Lehane,” Ethan’s smile was warm this time, which unsettled Buffy even more than before, “I now know how to take it from him.”


	31. Chapter 30 (Who Are You, pt. II)

> _“But you understand,” He peered into her eyes directly, and for a moment she had the irrational fear that he would somehow know that she was really, actually, Buffy. “The call of power? How **wonderful** the taste of it is?”_
> 
> _“Sure.” Faith’s love of being a Slayer was an easy aspect to play; her most obvious attribute. “So… you want him using his power again, then?” She gave him a look as if she thought he was off his rocker - which was not all that hard for Buffy regardless of the act she was putting on. “How’s that help you if **you’re** the one he’s using it **against**?”_
> 
> _“Because, Miss Lehane,” Ethan’s smile was warm this time, which unsettled Buffy even more than before, “I now know how to take it from him.”_

* * *

Thankfully, Ethan was content to simply wait for the results of his game, instead of following Buffy back to Giles’ and seeing his initial reaction firsthand. That meant that she didn’t need to pretend to be Faith any longer, which had been getting exhausting.

_Especially_ trying to keep her hands off of Ethan and make him wish he’d never left his home country.

The first thing she did upon returning to Giles’ was to take a shower, alone, and while that didn’t help his suspicion at her distant attitude, she couldn’t fathom having him touch her until she washed even just the _smell_ of Ethan from her skin. He hadn’t done anything physically, aside from his earlier brushing touches, but his tone and some of the things he’d said were more than slimy enough to make her feel icky.

Giles had indeed sent the others to Xander’s basement to stay for the night, but he knew from looking at Buffy’s face that she wasn’t in the same sort of mood that she’d been in earlier in the day.

“What is it?” He asked with a serious furrow on his brow as he followed her to sit on the couch. “You were out for longer than I expected,”

“I ran into him,” She decided not to draw it out, and watched the way his mouth thinned in annoyance. He’d suspected that, at the very least. “He thought that I was still Faith.”

“Oh,” Giles was surprised by that. “Did he speak with you? I’m assuming that he did, considering your delay.” Buffy nodded, twisting her damp hair into a braid over her shoulder as she waited for him to ask the next most pressing question on his mind. He hesitated, but eventually asked what she expected, “Did he… try anything?”

“He wanted me, as Faith, to come back here and allude that he and I - er, well,” She trailed off then, averting her eyes and focusing intently on tying the elastic band from her wrist around the end of her hair.

Giles breathed in very slowly, taking in a long breath and then releasing it just as slowly. She knew that he was trying to keep from reacting in anger.

“He knew that would… really piss you off. I mean, _really_ piss you off. He wants to make you fly off the handle and go after him half-cocked,”

“Why?” Giles frowned incredulously, getting to his feet suddenly, though he only began pacing across the rug in front of her. “If he’s seeking a thrashing, he certainly needn’t _perform_ for it - all he needs to do is ask.” Giles growled, his hands clenching into fists as he continued to pace.

“He said the…” She was hesitant to clarify the details to him right now, but she worried that withholding any information would only make him more suspicious and pissed off. “That if you thought anyone - especially him - put their hands on me, like that, that you would uh, lose control.”

Giles frowned more deeply as his pacing slowed to a stop.

“Lose control?” He asked carefully, and Buffy knew that he was reaching the right conclusion.

“Of your magic.” She murmured, and he sighed heavily, moving back to his seat on the couch beside her and sitting heavily. She was a bit surprised by this reaction, and watched him carefully. “He talked about… about Maurissa,” She explained softly, reaching out to slide her hand over his left, which lay relaxed on the cushion between them.

He tensed, tugging his glasses off with his other hand and maneuvering them between his knuckles so that he could press his fingers against the bridge of his nose. The fact that he did all this with one hand, so that he didn’t have to pull away from her touch, was very encouraging, and she continued,

“Everything he said, I already know.” She assured Giles, still speaking carefully softly. “He didn’t make up anything to skew my opinion of you - after all, he thought that I was Faith. Well, I’m pretty sure he _did_ fluff up his bits of the story a little bit,”

“I’m sure.” Giles grumbled in a distracted drawl.

“But he talked about you losing your cool for a while, going full-on ticking time-bomb guy and throwing around dark spells left and right… He thinks you’ll do that again. For me. And he wants you to, ‘cause somehow he’ll be able to… well, take it from you?”

“I see.” He sounded rather dissociative about it - and not all that surprised by it - and she frowned as she curled her fingers beneath his palm.

“You know that this kind of thing is possible? That someone can just… _take_ another person’s magic?” She still didn’t really understand that aspect of her world, but it sounded like it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“It’s possible,” He confirmed gravely, “but not often done. It’s an extremely violent act, when done without permission, and either way it’s also incredibly dangerous. To both parties.”

“How so?” She wondered quietly, not sure if she really wanted the answer. He took a moment, and shifted his hand to return her hold before he replied.

“Magic is tethered to one’s soul,” He began to explain, in a softer version of his ‘librarian voice’. “The more that one learns, and trains, the stronger and, hmm, ‘larger’ that connection becomes. Some people, regardless of their years of study, will never manage to have a very strong connection. Some, such as Willow for instance, are gifted with an affinity that can grow to an alarming rate if not managed carefully. Then there are those like Tara, and like myself, who are born with this connection already inside of them, ready to be cultivated in the same way a child learns and grows in any other aspect in life.”

“I think I get what you’re saying,” Buffy mused darkly. “Xander’s learned to be a part of a few spells over the years, but he doesn’t practice or anything, so it’d be easy to take whatever magic he might have inside of him. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice?” Giles nodded, and Buffy convulsively squeezed his hand tighter as she said, “Taking your magic from you would be like tearing your soul out.” She murmured, terrified at the thought, and he quickly gripped her hand more tightly in return, shaking his head.

“Not if I gave it willingly,” He told her, trying to soothe her. “It still wouldn’t be… a pleasant process, but if I don’t fight it, it won’t kill me.”

“You would be _willing_ to just _give_ Ethan your magic?” Buffy demanded, pulling out of his grasp to stare at him incredulously. “Are you crazy?”

“There are benefits,” He reasoned lightly, something in his eyes almost desperate as he implored her to understand. “I would be rid of the temptation to perform darker magics - I would be so much more comfortable to continue training Willow, and Tara, without risk. Perhaps it’s even… a final ablution, for my past.” He trailed off quietly. “This is the price I must pay.”

“No matter what you _think_ , I _know_ that power is more safe in your own hands,” Buffy argued firmly.

“The inclination is always there, Buffy, inside of me.” Giles interrupted her, sounding almost as if he’d already solidified his decision. “It always will be. My morality, my belief in what is right and what is wrong - that keeps me from acting on those inclinations… but what about when-”

“Giles, _you’re_ the one that first told me that magic isn’t all inherently bad, that it’s how the magic is _used_ that makes it bad.” Buffy protested. “And for as long as I’ve known you, the few times you’ve performed spells, they’ve always been to help me! They’ve always been for good things, like stopping apocalypses or, you know, saving my life once or twice. Willow and Tara… they’re looking to you. But when you keep doubting yourself _they_ second-guess themselves on whether or not it’s okay that they _like_ using their talents.” She paused for a beat. “Look, _I’ve_ got a power that could make me incredibly dangerous. But I use it to protect people… you could just keep using your magic know-how for good,” She reasoned, “Like you’ve done before.”

“I’ve also done dark spells before. For a much longer period of time.” Giles reminded her. “I know what that power tastes like. And power in _any_ form can become addictive. To anyone.”

“You’re stronger than you think you are.” Buffy informed him. “Uh, morally, I mean. You can do spells without going dark again, know how I know?”

“How do you know?” He humored her with a soft sigh.

“Cause you’ve got me.” She told him firmly. “And Willow, and Tara, and Xander - even Anya - we won’t let you get lost. See the problem was, back then, your friends encouraged the badness. Ethan,” She said his name with a particular scowl. “Thomas, Philip.”

Giles looked surprised, and then touched. He probably hadn’t expected her to remember their names, but, that first time that Giles had _really_ opened up to her; that he wasn’t just a Watcher or a librarian… he was a _person_ , a _man_ , with a whole history that she didn’t (at the time) know. Of course she remembered every moment of that… ‘adventure’.

“Now you’ve got friends that’ll encourage your goodness.”

“Oh, Buffy,” Giles murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Your spirit… your heart, is twice the match of anyone I’ve ever known.” He drew her close and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close against him.

“Everyone knows that Ethan doesn’t have nearly the self-control that you have,” Buffy mumbled against his chest, “with that much power in him, he would no doubt get even more dangerous.”

“My love, your belief in me is more wonderful than I can express, but as I was saying before you interrupted me - what of when that morality is tested? I’m only a man, and Ethan was correct. When it comes to you, I…” He trailed off, and then inhaled tellingly.

“Giles…”

“I… I showed Professor Walsh some of my memories, from my time as ‘Ripper’. When I confronted her in her office?” He added, and Buffy realized that he was finally telling her completely what had happened that day. She slowly pulled out of his embrace, so that she could look at him fully and give him her full attention. “I allowed her to… to not only _see_ the memories, but _experience_ them. To feel what I- I felt in the moment, th-the… pleasure I derived from destroying those demons so… torturously.”

“But those were demons, Giles, you would never - I mean, even back then, you never killed _people_ , or the innocent,” Buffy reminded him.

“I killed Randall.” He pointed out softly, looking down and not at her.

In so many ways, this conversation was reminiscent of the first time he’d opened up about his past; the two of them, alone, on his couch, Giles looking so emotionally rough for wear.

“And I still _hurt_ people.”

“Randall, rest his soul, was _not innocent_.” Buffy informed him more sternly, and he glanced up at her in surprise again. “It might’ve been a _mistake_ , sure - he might not’ve _intended_ to let Eyghon take full control of himself - but he _put himself in that circle_. He knew the risks. You are not any more guilty of his death than _he_ is.”

“Although it was I with the bloodied sword in my hands, in the end?” Giles returned, pained, and Buffy put her hand on his arm.

“It was you who saved everyone else in that room, and their loved ones, and who knows how many others. It was you who made the tough choice for the greater good. If Eyghon had gained more power, if he’d been allowed to roam free… Giles, he would’ve killed hundreds, probably thousands or more.” They sat in silence for a few moments, and she allowed the pause, before gently adding, “We know that Walsh wasn’t innocent, either.”

“But she is still a human, and subject to human laws.” Giles grew tense again, his eyes flinty as he met Buffy’s gaze. “And that didn’t matter to me, then. Not an ounce. Because it was _you_ that she had almost killed, in such a cowardly manner. _You_ that she had Adam so focused on. I showed her those memories of Ripper, and I showed her how serious I was about giving her _one chance_ to walk away. If something had happened to you during our raid of the Initiative, if you hadn’t been there when the dust had settled, I would have followed through.” He spoke plainly and directly. This wasn’t a mere possibility in his mind, it was fact. “I would have torn her apart, limb by limb. Piece by piece, perhaps. And if she ever returns to Sunnydale, if she somehow goes free and she tries something against you again - I still would.” He didn’t even blink. “I know that I would.”

“Giles…” Buffy wasn’t sure how to comfort him.

“Ethan unfortunately knows me better than most. I would do _anything_ for you, Buffy. Anything. _That’s_ why I was fired from the Council, on your birthday. Because those in the power of command know my history, and wanted to keep me from getting to this point… from getting too attached that I become dangerous.” He smiled ruefully, the expression not reaching his eyes, nor comforting Buffy much. “Little did they know, they were far too late. I’d reached that point by the time I found out that you would die by the Master’s hands.”

“ _Giles_ ,” Buffy cradled his head in her palms, drawing him close to her again, leaning her forehead against his. He sucked in a staggered breath, closing his eyes and allowing the touch, but didn’t move to rest his hands on her in return. “You have to stop guilting yourself over stuff that didn’t happen,”

“But-”

“No!” She interrupted him, holding onto him a little tighter, though carefully not so much to hurt him. “You remember what I said about you having self-control? Look - what happened, _happened_. I survived Walsh’s trick. I survived Adam. You didn’t have to go all Ripper on her, and you _didn’t_. And you _won’t_ , because _I won’t let you_.”

“You won’t let me?” He laughed a bit dryly. “The only reason I would do so is if you’re gone - you wouldn’t be here to stop me.”

“Wouldn’t I be?” She murmured softly, sliding one down to his chest to rest her palm over his heart. “I’m always with you, Giles. _Always_. Not only as someone who loves you, but as _your Slayer_. And you can’t… you _mustn’t_ go down that path if something ever happens to me.”

“ _Nothing will happen to you_.” He very nearly growled, and she shifted even closer to him, nestling the bridge of her nose against his forehead as she lessened the space between their bodies as much as their seated positions would allow.

“I’m the Slayer, Giles,” She reminded him carefully but firmly. “Don’t go saying things you _know_ can’t be promised by either one of us.”

Then Giles grabbed onto her, his fingers going vise-tight around her waist as if he needed to physically hold her to this plane of existence, and he kissed her, roughly and a bit uncoordinated.

“If I’m to keep this bloody magic,” He grumbled in frustration, between hard pressing kisses, “then I am using it to protect you. You will be the longest living damned Slayer in all of history.” He continued to kiss her messily, down her neck, his hands now pushing her back along the cushions of the couch.

“That’s my Watcher,” Buffy moaned proudly, not intending to moan but the sound being drawn out of her as he fussed with the waistband of her yoga pants, pulling them down and covering her body with his own.

She hadn’t expected this kind of reaction from him, but her surprise was quickly drowned out by his fervent passion. He trailed his kisses down her chest, pushing her shirt up out of the way to free her braless breasts to his mouth, focusing his almost impatient attention between both until her nipples were hard and aching and her hips were writhing against his wantonly.

“ _Giles_!”

Seeing that she was well aroused now, he flattened his tongue more softly against the sensitive nub beneath it, holding his body up with one hand on the cushion while his other hand quickly opened up his trousers to pull his cock free. He stroked himself a few times, exactly how he knew to get himself fully hard the quickest, and then guided his tip to her folds, stroking there a couple of times as well to ready her to open up for him.

She shifted her legs around the backs of his thighs, hooking her ankles against him to pull him close and he pushed his way in, to the hilt, in one steady stroke. This was fast, and heavy, but he needed it and she would be lying if she didn’t say that she needed it too.

Buffy sighed a warm, throaty sound, his girth stretching her with a familiar feeling that tasted a lot like _home_ , and he waited there for a moment before he began pumping his hips, kissing his way back up to her mouth, kissing her as deeply as he fucked her, every move balls deep and firm enough to make the couch creak with the same rhythm their bodies were making.

The hard touch-and-retreat pressure on her clit had her coming rather quickly, to her vocal surprise; she cried out his name before she could even remember that it was mid-afternoon, he had neighbors, maybe they should be quieter…

She was still humming noises of pleasure, slowly coming down from the peak of her orgasm, when his heavy breaths turned into grunts of pleasure of his own. His mouth brushed over hers now, his focus on their bodies too much to continue making out with her, and she trailed her fingers encouragingly down his back. He was close, and she tucked her hands beneath the loose waist of his trousers, trailing her nails over the curve of his butt squeezing him closer to her at his next thrust.

“Buffy! Oh, God,” His hips stuttered and then pressed hard against her, as deep as he could go as he came inside of her. “Oh, yes, Buffy, _fuck_ ,” He gasped with the last jerk of his hips, and then finally more or less stilled, though his length still throbbed within her and his chest was heaving as much as hers was.

She shivered with desire, still extremely aroused as her skin tingled by the sheer maleness of him - plus, it always got her a little excited when he dropped the rare curse word, whether it was sensual in nature or not.

He pulled his upper body up, to her surprise, and at her mewl of dismay with the loss of warmth of his chest, he softly tutted his tongue and sat up on his knees, his hands on her legs to keep them wrapped around him as he made sure they stayed connected.

“Put your hands up on the armrest,” He instructed her, his voice rough with passion, and she trembled again as she lifted her hands above her head to press her palms flat against the side of the armrest. She watched him curiously, wondering what he was doing, knowing that he would start softening soon. And then he balanced his weight on his haunches, and pulled back only about halfway before thrusting forward again.

Buffy gasped loudly at the sensation, her previously sated gaze rolling upward in ecstasy before she bit her lip to keep from crying out again. The _last_ thing she wanted right now was the neighbors calling the cops on them.

His expression went quietly smug, and then intent, as he understood he’d managed the right angle to hit her g-spot, and then he began fucking her again, only slightly more gentle than before. After all, he was intending to get her off again before he softened too much to do so.

And when she did, she writhed half up off the couch, her body jumping at the force of it. He caught her in his arms and held her up on his lap, clutching her flushed and sweaty body against his own as her muscles moved at their own abandon. Some part of her remembered to smother her mouth against his neck to quiet her shout, and her sensitive breasts rubbing against his sweater made her whimper more and her core clench harder around him, pulling a groan out of him as well.

She eventually recognized that she’d gotten him with her teeth, and too hard, when she tasted unpleasant copper against her tongue. She shifted her head to his shoulder, and panted vocally for a number of minutes as she finally went slack in his arms.

He was breathing heavily and trembling with exertion as well, but continued to hold her and stroke her hair and her back until she leaned her weight backwards, falling back onto the cushions and pulling him down with her. He was soft, now, nestled against her curls, and she could feel enough wetness that she was sure they’d made a mess of both their pants and the couch. Being only partially undressed wasn’t entirely comfortable either - she imagined particularly for him - but she didn’t want to budge yet from what had become a tender moment, and it appeared that he didn’t want to either. She could tell by the tension that had returned to his shoulders that he was feeling particularly vulnerable at the moment, and while she still wasn’t sure what words to say to him, she did what she thought she could, and held onto him tight.

**— — —**

They made Ethan wait it out for a number of hours, until after Buffy’s usual patrol time was nearly finished.

Then Giles, as he’d insisted, confronted Ethan alone in his hotel room. Buffy refused to leave him _completely_ alone, and waited hidden outside the door, ready to join him at the first hint of trouble.

“There you are, the pain in my arse.” Giles announced wryly as he easily broke into the hotel room and strolled through the door as if he’d used a key.

“Ripper!” Ethan greeted warmly, just a hint of surprise in his tone, but Giles’ return held no such warmth,

“Ethan.”

There was a pause, presumably as Ethan took a closer look at Giles and realized how rather _not_ out of control he was.

“You are much… calmer than I expected.” Ethan admitted cautiously, and Giles’ chuckle made the hair on the back of Buffy’s neck stand on end. It was not what she would call a nice sound.

“Oh, have no doubt, Ethan, I am furious.” 

Buffy had heard that tone of voice in him before, just once or twice in their earliest years together. That quiet, level tone had more of an effect than any amount of shouting someone else could do. She almost felt bad for Ethan… _almost_.

“Isn’t it fascinating?” Ethan said excitedly. “A neat little toy I found during my stay with our mutual friends,”

“The Initiative are no friends of mine.” Giles returned firmly.

“Ahhh, so you _have_ known where I’ve been these last months…” Ethan’s tone had dropped considerably now, and he sounded bitter. “Lovely people you turned me over to, you know. _Rehab_.” He scoffed.

“I… didn’t know, Ethan.” Giles admitted more softly, legitimately sympathetic about that. “You _were_ meant to go to Nevada. I’m not sure how Maggie Walsh managed that transfer.”

“As if Nevada would have been any better,” Ethan was flippant again, and Buffy could _hear_ Giles’ raised eyebrow in his next statement,

“It wouldn’t have been _torture_.” He pointed out. “I may not know the details, but I’m familiar with Walsh and her… practices.”

“Forcing me to stop using my magic?” Ethan returned. “ _You_ know very well how torturous that feels.”

Buffy held her breath for a moment, wondering something that she really did not want to fathom… Giles has told her quite a lot of his past, but he’d never gone into detail about his return to the Council. Just how forceful _had_ they been, when they’d - in his words - “straightened him out”? She already didn’t like them much, but she really didn’t want to picture them being _that_ … heartless.

Especially not to _Giles_ , but, she realized that might help explain his very strong opinions about his own magic…. Buffy clenched her fists tightly and breathed out slowly, pushing away her anger at the Council. They weren’t a current problem and, anyway, she’d already quit them. What more could she really do?

“What in your right mind made you think switching two Slayers with one another’s bodies was a good - _or useful_ \- idea?” Giles questioned Ethan incredulously, his annoyance in the forefront again.

“Sorry old mate, I’d meant to switch _myself_ with _you_!” Ethan proclaimed, as if that somehow made things better.

“To what end?” Giles growled, his tone knowing.

“Well… Can you blame a man for wanting to satisfy a life-long curiosity?” Ethan reasoned innocently. “I’d resigned myself to other forms of mischief when I realized I wouldn’t be able to switch the two of us, but then the other Slayer showed up at my door this afternoon wearing your old lady’s skin and, well… she’s quite difficult to resist, and rather open to certain ideas no matter _who’s_ body she’s borrowing,”

Buffy could hear the smirk in his tone, and then heard the punch that Giles landed as well.

“Ow, bloody hell!” Ethan’s voice was muffled and a bit surprised. “Alright, I deserve that… but she was willing, mate - and it’s not as if it was really your Buffy! Her heart is still yours and all that lovey-dovey nonsense,”

“It was _her body_!” Giles shouted, followed by the sound of another punch, and that was when Buffy straightened from the wall, wondering if she should interrupt after all. There was a tense moment of silence before Giles spoke again, quieter once more, “That aside… you can’t trick me, Ethan. You see, Buffy told me of the truth about your main agenda…”

“Buffy?”

“Mhm. It wasn’t ‘the other Slayer’ that spoke with you today, Ethan. It was _my_ Slayer.”

“…Bugger.” Ethan whined.

“Quite.” Giles tutted his tongue, and Buffy slowly relaxed. Marginally. “Honestly, Ethan… had you come to me directly, had you persuaded me to give you my magic to ‘ _relieve_ me of _my burden_ ’… I likely would’ve done it.” There was another pause. “Unfortunately for you, this little game of yours gave Buffy and I the opportunity to have a conversation… a conversation during which she persuaded me why giving you my magic was, in the end, a terrible idea.”

“You’ve thought your magic a burden for years, Ripper.” Ethan scoffed. “But giving it to me willingly? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

“You were right about something - I would do anything if I thought it would keep Buffy safe. Including giving my magic away to someone else. But she persuaded me that _keeping_ my magic would be more beneficial to that end.”

“And yet, here you are.” Ethan was starting to sound a little more confident again, and Buffy wrapped her fingers around the door handle. “I can just _take_ it from you, Ripper.”

“You would try?”

“You have the natural talent, but you haven’t been practicing in some time,” Ethan scoffed. “You’d put up a good fight, of that I have no doubt, but in the end I would succeed.”

“And if it kills me?”

There, Ethan paused for a telling moment. Buffy took that opportunity to force her way into the hotel room, striding in and stopping beside Giles.

“You can’t fight the both of us at once, Ethan.” She told him firmly, and he scowled and pouted at her.

“You tricked me.” He accused her, whining again, though he sounded half-impressed about it. “I truly did not think that you were Buffy, especially after you let me touch you,”

“You said he _didn’t_ touch you,” Giles growled, half turning toward her, and she groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, relax - it was just my _arm_ ,” Buffy gave him an exasperated look, while in her peripheral vision caught Ethan trying to inch his way around them toward the door. “If he’d gotten really creepy I would’ve broken his nose again.”

“You locked yourself alone in the shower as soon as you came back!” Giles pointed out.

“He’s _slimy_!” Buffy exclaimed, gesturing vaguely in Ethan’s direction, who was still inching. “Just being in the same room with him makes me feel icky! I’ll probably shower again after this!”

Giles must’ve noticed Ethan now as well, because with a muttered word in Latin and a palm thrust toward the door, it slammed closed before Ethan could reach it. The hair on the back of Buffy’s neck stood up, prickling with the electricity of the magic in the air.

Ethan jumped, startled, but then turned on his heel and was smirking as he faced them again.

“I sense Ripper is itching to come out and play more than you’re letting on, mate,” Ethan teased with a glint in his eye, but Giles didn’t appear fazed as he lowered his hand back to his side.

“I’ve told you. I _am_ furious with you.” Giles warned in a low tone. “Don’t press your luck, Ethan.”

“So, what do you want from me?” He held his hands out to either side, trying to look innocent again. “The ladies have clearly - somehow - already switched back, so you don’t need me for that. You won’t _give_ me your magic, and you make a very good argument about picking fist-fights with the Slayer, so it seems to me we’re at a bit of a stalemate.”

“I want to know what spell you were going to use to steal my magic.” Giles demanded, and Ethan rolled his eyes.

“As if I would tell you? So then you could take _mine_ from me?”

“I hardly want _my own_ -”

“No way _in hell_ would I let Giles have anything of yours inside him.” Buffy told Ethan threateningly, interrupting Giles, as she folded her arms across her chest. Ethan smiled a slow, wide, smirk.

“Well, my dear,” He purred, “I’m afraid you’re a couple of decades _too late_ for that,”

“ _That’s not what I meant!_ ” Buffy exclaimed, flushing hotly, glancing at Giles briefly enough to see that he was blushing now as well. And looking even more annoyed than before. “Your magic is probably _tainted_.” Buffy huffed, forcefully keeping the conversation focused away from anything too intimate about Ethan. “If anything, he might start picking up your _fashion sense_.” There, snark a joke - that was always a trusty diversion.

“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” Ethan protested, and Buffy raised her eyebrow.

“Let’s skip through the rest of the banter,” Giles gritted out between his teeth, seeming like he was annoyed with the both of them, but then he said toward Ethan, “Tell me where you found the spell.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to respond, but barely got out the beginning of his sentence “I-” before Giles was once again snapping something in Latin, quickly stepping toward Ethan as he interrupted him. He put his hand around Ethan’s throat and held him back against the door.

Startled by the sudden physical threat from Giles, Buffy shifted closer to possibly pull them apart, but Giles held his other hand out to make her stay back.

He didn’t say anything toward her, and didn’t look away from Ethan’s ever-widening eyes as he continued muttering words that Buffy couldn’t follow. Then he lifted his free hand to the side of Ethan’s head, pressing two fingers against his temple and his thumb against his cheekbone.

Ethan’s eyes rolled back until Buffy nearly only saw whites, and she sucked in a sharp breath and held it. It wasn’t just the hair on the back of her neck that stood on end, now; every inch of her skin prickled with awareness. The kind of awareness that usually warned her there were vampires nearby, except once again there was that sense of ‘taste’ against her tongue, and it was… different. Different than anything she’d ever sensed before, even when Giles had performed magic in front of her previously.

The tattoo on the back of her neck tingled, like small little zaps from static electricity, and she pressed her hand against it automatically, otherwise standing very still as she stared at the two men. They both appeared to be breathing, but Ethan was trembling slightly and Giles had that furrow on his brow that told her he was in deep concentration mode. Ethan wasn’t struggling against Giles at all, leaning half limp against the door, even though Buffy could see Giles’ fingers were rather tight around his throat.

“Giles…” Buffy hesitantly spoke, unsure about interrupting. He had stopped his muttering, but was still staring intently _beyond_ the whites of Ethan’s eyes. He was choking Ethan and she wasn’t certain that he was aware of that anymore. Then Ethan’s face started to go pale, and Buffy took a step closer. “Giles!” The air pressure seemed to grow heavier around her as she moved closer to them, but she tried to ignore that discomfort and reached out to grip the back of Giles’ elbow tightly. “ _Giles, stop._ ”

Her ears popped, like after a serious altitude change, as Giles let go of Ethan and stepped back from him. He stumbled into Buffy and she used her grip on him to keep him upright, as Ethan slumped to the floor. After a glance at Giles to assure herself he could stand on his own, she knelt to check Ethan’s pulse. He was still awfully pale, but the beat was there if a little fast, so she figured it had more to do with the magic and less with Giles’ hold he’d had on his throat.

He was still breathing, which she was relieved about for Giles’ sake. “Giving him a thrashing” was one thing - bringing him near death was entirely another. Ethan was even coming to; his eyelids fluttering as he awkwardly pushed himself back to his feet, letting the door behind him bear most of his weight.

Buffy returned to Giles’ side, hesitating to touch him again as she peered into his eyes. The green seemed brighter, somehow, and his pupils were kind of larger than normal.

“Are you alright?” She asked gently, and he closed his eyes and took a deep settling breath before opening them again and nodding to her. His eyes were nearly back to normal, now.

“What - _bloody hell_ \- what did you do to me, Ripper?” Ethan complained, holding a hand against his head as he shuffled toward the bed, completely unbothered that he brushed between them on his way to the mattress. “My head is _splitting_.”

“I’ve given you the chance to return home, Ethan.” Giles informed him, sounding a little bit tired now. “To England. I don’t want to hear about you in Sunnydale again.”

“Spoilsport,” Ethan whined, flopping back on his bed and drawing one of the pillows across his face. “Turn the bloody lights off when you leave, would you?” He groaned, muffled.

Buffy stared at Giles in appalled surprise at Ethan’s sudden indifference toward them. Giles shook his head once at her, and held his hand toward the door to guide her out of the room ahead of him. She glanced toward Ethan worriedly one more time, but hesitantly stepped out to the balcony.

Once the door was closed behind them, and Giles had stepped a few doors down, he leaned both hands on the railing and ducked his head, breathing a bit purposely for a few moments.

“What was that?” Buffy wondered, approaching him slowly and resting her hand on his back between his shoulders, comforting.

“I took the spell from him.” Giles replied simply, and she stared at him in surprise even though he wasn’t looking to see her raised eyebrows. “As well as the book that he got it from.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“And… that means…?” As his breathing seemed to settle, she slid her other hand onto his back and rubbed both up and down in long, slow strokes, further encouraging him to relax.

“I delved into his mind and took the knowledge from him. He no longer knows how to steal one’s magic, and he no longer knows that he ever had that knowledge in the first place.” Giles slowly straightened and tugged his glasses from his pocket to put them back on his nose.

Buffy blinked as she shifted out of his personal space, wrong-footed. She was still feeling all prickly, which unsettled her enough - as calm as his explanation was, she _knew_ that spell he’d used had to have been something powerful, something _seriously_ powerful, and that unsettled her too.

“Giles-”

“I would rather we continue this conversation at my flat.” He interrupted her with a sigh, but gently. She pursed her lips, but then he held his hand out, fingers spread invitingly, and she tucked her hand into his and nodded. “I need a bit of silence after poring through Ethan’s brain.” He muttered in complaint under his breath, and she squeezed his hand a little tighter as she rubbed her thumb against his skin.

She made a mental list of her questions and concerns as they returned to his rental car, but was comforted a little when he immediately reached for her hand again once they were both buckled in.

**... ... ...**

His headache seemed to have passed by the time they were in his apartment and he had the kettle warming up on the stove. In fact, he was pacing a little bit, back and forth in front of the counter as Buffy warily watched him from her perch on one of the bar stools. He pulled his glasses off of his face, fiddled with them, and then put them back on, numerous times before Buffy finally said his name again.

“Hmm?”

“This is just some kind of side effect, right?”

“What?” He stopped his pacing and faced her directly, and she gave him a wry look.

“You’re hyper.” She pointed out. “And I’m-” She stopped suddenly, and glanced away from him.

“You’re what?” He worried, shifting closer to the counter so that he could reach one of her hands and curl his fingers around hers supportively. “Are you- you’re not- …scared of me, are you?” He finished his question very quietly, and she shook her head vehemently.

She hesitated for a moment before verbally responding though, distracted by the weight of his hand over hers. Her eyes lingered over his knuckles, now as familiar with his hands as she was her own. She was easily able to recall the strength of his grip as he sparred with her in their back room at the shop, the precise confidence of the way he guided her and trained her with new weapons and new fighting techniques, the softness of his touch in the bedroom regardless even of the calluses on his palms and the pads of his fingers.

She slowly stroked her fingertips across his knuckles and between each finger as she mused, a part of her aware at how his breathing changed in response to her touch.

“Of course I’m not scared of you.” She assured him with a soft promise. “I’m… kind of confused,” She admitted, “and a _little_ wigged out - but you know magic always kinda wigs me out. And…”

“…And…?”

The prickly feeling had turned to a low, throbbing heat that matched the beat of his slightly shortened breaths, and when Buffy met his gaze again she found that his eyes were wide once more - but this time, darker instead of lighter.

“What happened, _exactly_?” She pressed, determined to get at least the majority of her questions answered first. Even still, she didn’t stop brushing her fingers along his in a rather pointed fashion.

“The-there is a spell,” Giles swallowed as he distractedly watched her fingers for a moment, shifting even closer against the edge of his side of the counter. “That is intricate and difficult to explain without pulling it apart in steps. Suffice to say, it works like a pyramid, or a funnel, and allows one to enter another’s mind.”

“To read it?” Buffy asked, and then shuddered. As fun as some of that demon-power had been for her, it was difficult not to also remember the confusion and the pain once she became overwhelmed by all the minds all at once.

“To read, and in some cases, to… affect.”

“In some cases?” Buffy gave him a look, and he blushed a little before darting his gaze to the side for a moment. The kettle wasn’t nearly ready, however, so eventually he had to return his attention toward her.

“It takes a great deal of power, and knowledge in the skill, to be able to do more than simply observe whilst exploring another’s mind.” He admitted, and she nodded; she’d figured as much, what with the way she’d been physically affected by what power had merely been radiating off of him.

“So you… took a memory completely away from Ethan? How do you know you only took exactly what you needed? What if he forgets, like, his home address or something?” She thought aloud, and then gave him a serious look. “That’s kinda scary, Giles.”

“It is not a spell to be done lightly.” He admitted, and his eyes softened, looking sad as he held her gaze. “I was very careful and precise; only taking what I deemed was dangerously involved with the magic-stealing spell. Buffy, I…” He paused, and then insisted quietly, “I would _never_ use that - or _any_ magic - against you unwillingly or without your knowledge. You… you know that, don’t you?”

“Oh, of course Giles,” She promised him, tangling their fingers together to squeeze his reassuringly. “That’s not what I meant by scary - I was sort of thinking, more existentially scary, maybe? How many people in the world know how to do that? Go into other people’s minds practically at will like that?”

“Not many.” Giles sounded embarrassed again.

“This is another one of those ‘Giles The Great And Powerful’ things again, isn’t it?” She figured, and he flushed even more. “No _wonder_ Ethan had the hots for you.”

Giles spluttered, snorted out a laugh, then looked at her incredulously.

“Excuse me?”

“Giles…” Buffy gave him a brief, wry smile. “Ethan has no shyness about his interest in your power or in your- uh, _mouth_. Among other parts of you.”

She could understand that perfectly well, too.

“Dear lord.” Giles pushed his glasses up his forehead and covered his quickly reddening face with his hand, and Buffy patted the one still beneath hers on the counter.

“It gets worse - he made some not-so-vague allusions to my mother last night, too.” She had conveniently left that part out in her earlier description of the events.

“ _Dear lord_ ,” He said more emphatically.

“-but she hardly believed anything that he said, so I wouldn’t worry about that too much.” She considered the deep flush that was still coloring his cheeks. “And I remember _a lot_ of things from reading your mind accidentally last year - ‘you’ve handled a penis before’?” She quoted, and then added, “And I _could tell_ you weren’t talking about your _own_ penis.”

“Buffy, I-” He grimaced for a second, pulling his glasses off his head entirely, and tried again, “I, um, I- I don’t- well, that is to say,”

“Giles, it doesn’t freak me out ‘cause you’ve been with other guys before.” She informed him plainly, and he blinked in startled surprise at her. “Well,” She amended, admitting the truth, “It doesn’t freak me out _anymore_. It was a bit of a surprise at first, but… anyway, if I’m still freaked at all it’s just because it’s _Ethan_ , and I’ve _met_ Ethan.” She gave him a look, a look that clearly stated she thought he could have chosen better.

“At the time, I was sometimes worse than he,” Giles reminded her defensively. “As much as it pains me to say it, we were quite the pair when we were young,”

“I just don’t wanna picture it, Giles,” Buffy grimaced, complaining, and then he did too.

“Th-that wasn’t what I meant by that phrase,” He rubbed his fingers over his eyes again for a moment, and then sighed heavily. “And to be completely honest with you, it was never really _other men_ , for me. Just Ethan, at the time.”

“And any other ladies you fancied to join,” She blurted wryly, and he pressed his lips together, looking slightly hurt and annoyed now. Buffy winced again for entirely different reasons, and reached her other hand across the counter to squeeze his hand tightly between both of hers. “I’m sorry, that was bitchy of me. Here I was pissed at Ethan just yesterday for airing all your way-past dirty laundry at my mom, and I’m doing the same thing to you right now.”

“Did he truly say all of that to _your mother_?” Giles moaned in dismay, brushing his fingers against her knuckles in acceptance of her apology as he tossed his glasses to the counter beside their clasped hands.

“He was… pretty graphic about some of the things he thinks we get up to…” She blushed a little as she recalled Ethan’s specific wordage he’d used. “But I interrupted him and Mom probably didn’t hear any of it anyway -”

“ _Bloody hell_.” Giles cried out with even more dismay, knowing from Buffy’s tone that her Mom likely _had_.

“Yeah, um… she’ll probably want to talk to us about it…” She nervously met his eyes, unsure how he was going to take this.

“What, exactly, was it that Ethan told her?” He asked gravely.

“Well, I’m pretty sure one of us would’ve noticed if he’d _actually_ been spying on us, but, he told her he had been and that basically we’ve been going at it like bunny rabbits,”

“Really?” Giles spluttered incredulously, and she paused.

“Well, there _are_ times -”

“Buffy.” Giles tiredly looked up at the ceiling, and she refocused again.

“He talked about the possibility of us, uh, getting it on in the library, or when we’re training, like - _every time_ we’re supposed to be training,”

“As if I’m taking advantage.” Giles figured, frowning deeply, and Buffy frowned as well.

“Mom _knows better_.” She insisted, but her expression was still unsure.

“Nevertheless, you have a point.” He sighed heavily. “Ethan has a very good way of making one second-guess their own thoughts. I should prepare myself for an inquisition…” The kettle was finally boiling, and he gently pulled away so he could turn and deal with it.

“Can we get back to the side effects?” She asked distractedly; she hadn’t missed the way his pants were still a little tented at the front, and that made her heart skip a beat. His boner had dwindled some, since the side-bar about her mom’s suspicions, but it was still there.

“Side effects?” He was lost, distracted by the looming threat of an awkward conversation with Joyce.

“With the magic stuff.” Buffy clarified. “The energy boost, and all that.”

“Ah. The- the um, energy is not uncommon,” He spoke as he put tea in the pot and then carefully filled it with the hot water. “A bit of an adrenaline rush after a difficult spell is to be expected,” Then he added wryly, “No doubt to be followed by many hours of a deep, exhausted sleep.”

“And the headaches?”

“The nature of the specific spell,” He glanced at her over his shoulder for a moment to give her a nod.

“So, could I feel it so much because it was a powerful one? Or is it because I’m your Slayer? Or is it because I’m _the_ Slayer, and I’m just attuned to that kind of stuff now?” She frowned a little at that idea; she really did _not_ want to become sensitive to something that wigged her out on such a primal level.

“Feel it?” Giles wondered curiously, turning to lean his hips back against the far counter as he faced her, the tea now steeping in its pot. “Can you clarify?”

“You know, how you taught me,” She gestured vaguely, taking every ounce of her strength to focus on the conversation and not on his apparent lack of concern about her seeing the bulge in the front of his pants. Maybe he didn’t realize it was there, himself? “Something in the air. Sometimes a taste on the tongue when you breathe in? I could _seriously_ feel it though - I mean, when I first went to Ethan’s hotel room I could ‘taste’ the protection spells he’d been using, just like you said I probably would.” She made a sour face at that; it hadn’t been pleasant. “But as soon as you started in on that Latin - even when you’d just closed the door on him, it was like electricity against my skin. My hair felt like it was standing on end and like, gravity seemed heavier, the closer that I stood to you.”

He stared directly into her eyes as she explained, taking in what she was saying and cataloguing it, though his expression was a bit difficult to read. And oddly serious, in her opinion.

“Being the Slayer, you could possibly be more attuned to magics in the air, if you train your senses for it… but in all likelihood it is because of our closeness that you’re so particularly attuned to mine…” He mused aloud, and she nodded slowly, accepting that.

If he was really gonna start doing some of this stuff more often, in his effort to fight alongside her, she was really gonna have to start learning how to _block him out_. It wouldn’t be a good idea to get that distracted by him in the middle of a serious battle. She already had a hard enough time not ogling him sometimes when he was wielding his favorite sword.

“And the taste?” Giles asked, which threw her for a loop and jerked her out of her daydreams.

“Huh?”

“You obviously found Ethan’s protection spells - perhaps simply his magic in general - distasteful. What about mine?” He wondered, and she realized with a start that his pupils were wide and dark again. His tongue darted out against his lip briefly, and she couldn’t resist glancing down below his belt, pleased to discover that his desire had returned in spades.

His physical arousal made hers suddenly skyrocket, and she actually had to hold back a moan for a second.

“I’ve, uh, experienced yours before, remember?” She pointed out, only slightly unsteady.

“But only once was it a spell of any note,” He waved her comment away. “And we weren’t alone in that connection, either.”

“Still made us pretty horny.” She muttered, and he quirked a lopsided smile.

“What about _now_?” He pressed, his eyes drifting down to her mouth again, and she distantly realized with a start that this might be a part of something he’d been worried about before… about the addiction. Maybe it wasn’t just for the magic itself, but _what came after_ …

“Maybe I should go…” Buffy hesitantly worried now, sliding to her feet from the stool, and his expression immediately dropped into a look of such disappointment that she even still considered cuddling him in a tight hug to comfort him.

“Please stay for tea,” He requested earnestly, straightening up from his lean but pointedly not rounding the counter to follow after her and possibly physically make her pause. “I’m not…” He trailed off and paused, and she noticed that much of the heat of arousal in his gaze had drifted away. “My… boisterousness may very well be because of the magic, but I a-assure you that _nothing else_ is,” He somewhat shyly met her gaze again. “Whenever I’m met with the facts of you wanting me, it always overwhelms me a little, still.”

“Overwhelms you?” Buffy repeated, raising her eyebrow slightly.

“Enthralls me and fills me with the heavy aching desire to take you immediately against every surface available?”

“Oh,” She breathed distractedly, his words making her tingle all over yet again. “That’s all?” She could feel her nipples stiffen and wondered if he could see them through her shirt.

Decided, she kicked her shoes off and quickly rounded the kitchen, leaping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist as he held her tightly against him.

“If this is just you, then I’m pretty sure this is just me, too,” She told him, just before carding her fingers through his hair and kissing him deeply. “Forget the tea, Giles. I’ve got another way you can soothe this tension of yours.” She squeezed her legs around him firmly, pressing herself against the hardness of his arousal, and he groaned loudly.

**— — —**

Buffy wasn’t really thinking too hard about anything in particular as she gazed at him, her fingers lightly stroking the smoothness of his cheek. She was just enjoying the moment, marveling that the two of them could have such a calm, quiet afternoon. When she had days like yesterday, it was hard to believe that her life would ever be normal. But then she had days like this… and was contented with it being enough.

Lying in bed with her lover, in the middle of the afternoon, quietly gazing into his soft green eyes. Being able to forget about the outside world for a few hours.

“I love the way you touch me.” He murmured, breaking the comfortable silence between them, and she twitched her lips into a questioning smirk, though she didn’t stop the gentle circles she was rubbing over his cheek with her fingertips. “I know better than anyone else on this Earth just how strong you truly are,” He added, “Yet you touch me so… delicately.” His voice softened even further with that word, and Buffy’s smirk fell away into something more gentle.

“I thought guys didn’t do delicate.” Buffy quipped, teasing carefully.

“Every now and then.” He returned with a smile, and then reached out to card her hair back from her face, behind her ear. She returned the gesture, brushing her thumb against his ear, and his expression softened again.

An idea forming, she slid her palm down his neck and over the curve of his shoulder, appreciating the shape of him as she did so. Their more frequent training was definitely doing him some very nice favors in the muscle department. She gently pushed him over onto his back, and then pulled the bedsheet out of the way as she sat up beside him. His hand had fallen to her hip and he gave her a curious look as she guided it to relax on the mattress beside him instead.

She slid her palm slowly up his arm, until she reached his shoulder and then ran her fingers down the softer skin inside, turning his hand palm up once she returned to it, her touch light as a feather against the callused skin. She could see the way his muscles trembled a little in response, and felt encouraged to continue with her idea.

She trailed her nails lightly back up the inside of his arm, pausing at the black ink near the inside of his elbow to rub her thumb against it. She could feel goosebumps erupt on her own skin, starting at the back of her neck where her own tattoo lay. She heard Professor Walsh’s voice in the back of her mind droning on about Pavlovian responses, as she simultaneously recalled the last time Giles had kissed and nibbled the nape of her neck… but she gently pushed her own arousal to the side for now. (And _roughly_ pushed away Walsh’s snide tones, with a good kick to boot.)

She shifted closer to reach him more comfortably with both hands, sitting on her knees near his waist, and decided not to correct him when he rested his palm atop her thigh. She stroked the sides of his neck and up into his hair again, and quietly hummed in approval when his eyes drifted shut. She repeated the movement again, long and slow, and smiled to herself when he sighed softly.

She drew her fingers across his temples, stroking his brow for a moment before then carefully running them over his eyelids and down the curve of his cheeks. She stroked the line of his nose, and then rubbed his jaw, where his muscles often clenched when he was either angry or unbearably aroused. Eventually she followed the line to his chin, and traced the pads of her fingers against the curve of his mouth.

The softness of his lips always startled her, even if just for a moment, every time they kissed. She lingered there for a minute as she fondly thought of their first kiss in the library, until Giles startled her by opening his eyes again, the amount of love in them making her breathless.

She leaned over to kiss him gently, unable to resist doing so, bracing herself on his pillow so that no other part of her touched him. She didn’t let him deepen the kiss, pulling back when she felt his mouth part and waiting for him to close it before softly brushing closed lips over his again, savoring how it felt to have his mouth against hers. She kissed him like this until she was sure that she’d be able to recall the shape of it perfectly even in her sleep, and then resumed her previous position to continue on with her pseudo-massage.

His fingers rubbed against her thigh a little bit as he licked his lips, but his eyes were still closed and he had the loveliest little smile on his face, so she didn’t stop him. She loved the returned affection, even if she was determined to keep the focus entirely on him for the time being.

Buffy flattened her palms against his collarbone and drew them down across it, over his chest, her own skin tingling at the feel of his chest hair. She avoided his nipples for now, not wanting to over-stimulate him, and ran her hands down his torso, then around his waist and up his sides.

Then she did the whole thing in reverse, carefully maintaining the same slow speed. When she pushed up through his chest hair again, he sucked in a breath and sighed again, this time a little heavier and nearing a moan. She didn’t linger over the scars on his body, and nor did she shy away from them, sliding her hands back down his ribs and across his hips.

He shifted against the bed as she circled her thumbs against the muscles around his hip bones, only firming her touch here to massage him until he relaxed again. His arousal was just beginning to show itself, and she now rested one of her hands gently over his groin as she looked back up to his face.

She wanted to feel him as he got hard, but she loved the expressions that he made, too, so she watched his face as she cradled one hand around his length, and ran her other fingers down the crease of his thigh, brushing her knuckle against his balls. Remembering how he’d reacted before, in his car last summer, she scraped her nails lightly above the base of his cock, through his curls, and sure enough his length began to fill out in earnest within her loose fist.

It was actually kind of amazing to her, how his body worked, and while for a second she mentally berated herself for such a nerdy thought, she knew that he was probably the only man who’d really love to hear something like that from her at a time like this.

“You’re sort of amazing, you know that?” Buffy murmured, both hands now on the upper inside of his thighs, where his skin was almost as soft as hers.

“Wh- h- hmm?” He panted, distracted, clueless, his head lifted off the pillow now as he watched her. She smiled adoringly at him and ran her fingers down the length of his cock, which throbbed at her touch and grew harder, rising almost straight up now. Buffy shifted her knees back from his hip, enough so that she had room to lean over him comfortably without craning her neck, and he sucked in a loud breath in sudden anticipation.

“This,” She admitted, massaging the pads of her fingers around soft skin over firm glands. “Is kind of… fascinating.” She admitted shyly. “I mean, I just get wet, but you? You… this part of you _changes_. And _I_ made that happen.” She glanced back toward his face with amazement. “You know how powerful that makes me feel?”

“Says the Slayer,” He chuckled breathlessly, still sounding mostly distracted, but then he swallowed and shifted more pillows beneath his head so he could look at her more easily. “It- it might not be as, um, _obvious_ ,” He gestured his chin with almost a wry look toward his erection before smiling softly at her. “B-but believe me when- when I say that when your body changes it- it is just as fascinating.” Buffy blushed at the dark look in his eyes but smiled back, comforted with the fact that she’d been right in being open with him about what she was thinking.

“So I make you feel that way, too?” She asked, her attention drawing back down to between his legs.

“P-powerful?” He questioned, and she nodded. He was quiet for a moment, but then murmured earnestly, “Yes.”

“Good.” She replied softly, smiling before returning to her previous intention. She sensed him relax - apparently he’d been worried about how she would take that - and she gingerly rubbed his foreskin over the ridge of his glans. He whimpered and released a heavy shaky breath, and she smiled again to herself. She’d learned a few more things about him since their fondling session in the car, and she was determined to make this one even better. Especially since they had more time here, unlike their pseudo-quickie in the bathroom at her mom’s house….

Maybe she could even…

The head of his cock was shiny with precome and she did not resist her curiosity this time, darting the tip of her tongue against the little ridge beneath it and licking upward and along the slit.

A noise came out of him that made her pause and slowly lift her eyes back toward his, staring at him in amazement. Sure, she always loved when that happened - weird noises bursting out of him in the throes of pleasure - but she hadn’t actually expected anything _new_ , not now.

But that… that growling whine, that started high and lingered low, ending in an almost hysterical giggle - that was unexpected. He didn’t notice her looking because his eyes were squeezed closed and his head tilted back, his adam’s apple jutting out as he swallowed. His arms and hands flexed tightly, closing around the bedsheet beneath him.

His skin was just beginning to grow flushed and damp, his breath shorter, and as Buffy stared at a small bead of sweat that trailed down the curve of his throat, her hand started to move along his length again without her entirely realizing it.

“Buffy,” He said her name so tenderly that she could sigh… and with a kind of reverence that warmed her soul, and made her inner Slayer preen like a cat. A big, wild, powerful cat.

She braced her other hand on his hip to keep him relatively still and kissed the side of his cock, slowly covering the whole length in the same warm gentle kisses she’d given his mouth earlier.

“Mmmm yes,” He moaned quietly, desperately, “yes… yes,” He shifted restlessly against the sheets but she still wasn’t in any hurry to get him off.

“Delicately, you said,” She reminded him, giving the head another wet lick as she smiled. He tasted better this time, than she’d remembered against her fingers in the car, but she kept that to herself.

“Ah!” He yelped at the touch of her tongue, squirming beneath her even as he slid his fingers into her hair, rubbing her scalp, encouraging her. His skin was hot beneath her lips, and it felt natural to immediately open her mouth and let him inside, rubbing against her tongue and the roof of her mouth. He drawled out a long moan as she lowered her mouth over him and pulled back up. “Oh yes, oh yes,” He half-praised, half-pleaded with her, his fingers tightening slightly in her hair which made her own body quiver with arousal.

She mouthed him tenderly as she rubbed her thumb and fingers along his length, playing his foreskin against him again as she danced the tip of her tongue across the head in the exact way he would do to her clit whenever he went down on her.

“ _Fuckin’ hell!_ ” He gasped loudly in a most definitely stronger accent, his entire body trembling, and Buffy pulled her mouth off of him for a moment to let him get his bearings. The glans was deep red now, looking almost painful, but when Buffy glanced back up Giles’ face was full of pleasure. She kept her eyes on his face as she lowered her mouth onto him again, suckling a little bit as she rubbed her tongue beneath the head. He was harder than ever, and panting louder, too. “Buffy…” He shakily breathed out her name, and didn’t say anything else for a few seconds. His thighs tensed and he gripped his fingers into her hair, holding on without pulling. “Buffy, I’m- I’m g-going to-” He whined for a moment, and then gasped urgently, “ _I’m going to come_ ,”

“Mhmm,” She hummed in acknowledgement and encouragement without letting up or speeding up, and he let out another quiet kind of whining noise as he tensed beneath her again, his hips pushing up off the mattress a little, desperate for more than just these slow, tender touches.

“I need, I need,” He gasped, completely out of breath, his body flushed and damp as if he’d just been out running, and Buffy figured he was nearing the point of frustration. Not wanting that - though a tiny thought whispering _‘maybe another time’_ in her brain - she lifted her head only enough to ask him somewhat calmly,

“What do you need?” She was a little out of breath, too - he was making her _so_ horny right now she could hardly stand it anymore not having him touching her. Other than his hand still gripped in her hair, anyway.

“Harder… faster,” He seemed unable to keep himself from grunting, though he was obviously trying, as he watched her lick her lips and he thrust up into her hand. She smiled slowly in understanding, inordinately pleased, and tightened her fist as she began to give him long strokes.

Then she leaned back over and took him into her mouth again, loving the way he throbbed against her tongue as she stroked him steadily. True to his request she hollowed her cheeks in, sucking on him in earnest now. He cried out roughly, his back arching from the bed, and she pressed her other hand against his hip to keep him from choking her. Feeling him sliding between her lips, against her tongue, hot and heavy and trembling - she was surprised to feel her own muscles tighten suddenly, a small but pleasant orgasm washing through her without her even touching herself. After a few more bobs of her head she felt him thicken in her palm, just before he came, and he cried out her name as he filled her mouth. She swallowed out of reflex and he cried out again, thrusting suddenly against the roof of her mouth.

“ _Buffy_ ,” He babbled her name as his fists clenched the bedsheets again and his body continued to writhe up beneath her. “Buffy, oh Buffy.” Eventually she had to pry herself away from him, out of breath as well, fisting him through it as come continued to dribble out of him.

“Damn, Giles,” She exclaimed softly, unable to decide between staring at his cock and staring at his face.

His expression of ecstasy was indescribable. His body moved against the sheets with complete abandon as his orgasm completely took him over, and she knew that he had no idea of the way he kept saying her name like it was the only word he knew anymore.

Her bibliophile guy, reduced to babbling. She shivered with delight, that big metaphorical cat within her purring with pleasure.

She gentled her hands carefully, slowly stroking her fingers along his length and across to his hips. His cock was still throbbing intermittently even after the rest of him finally relaxed in a sated heap on the mattress. She rested her palm against the underside of his length for a moment before she slid up it and into the mess on his stomach.

He gasped again, a breathless sound that sounded partially dismayed when she wasn’t touching his cock anymore, but when Buffy met his eyes again he was looking down at her with such love that it actually made her eyes sting. As he finally began to soften a little against his thigh, she leaned down again to lick his skin, tasting the tang of his sweat and the odd almost-sweetness of his come.

“Ohhh, Buffy,” He panted, “you’re _bloody_ incredible,” He sounded a bit delirious, and once he was mostly cleaned up, she peppered soft butterfly kisses up his tummy and his chest until she eventually reached his mouth. She hesitated as she hovered over him, mindful of his shortness of breath, and the fact she’d just had his come in her mouth, but he carded both hands into her hair and pulled her down to kiss her hard.

He swept his tongue into her mouth and kissed her deeply for a number of moments, until he had to pry his lips away to catch his breath again. He stared up at her as if she were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen, his eyes glazed with pleasure and his expression almost incredulous. Buffy couldn’t help but grin, and shifted to lay on her side beside him so she could card her fingers through his ruffled hair and tame it down a bit. He let out a deep, weary, contented sigh.

“I liked that.” She mused, pleased and a bit surprised with herself. She’d heard some girls at the university talk about oral as if it were a chore; something they did for their partner but they didn’t much enjoy performing it. They used it as like a trade-off. “Does that make me a ho?” She wondered, mostly to herself.

“What?” Giles sounded confused and lost, still recovering.

“That I liked going down on you.” Buffy explained. Then, she blurted out a short chuckle and admitted, “I liked it a lot.” She’d _come_ from doing it, though if she thought again about the noises he had been making, that was starting to be less of a surprise. He shifted onto his side as well to look at her more directly, and reached over to brush her hair behind her ear.

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with that. I enjoy orally pleasuring you, after all.”

“Well, yeah,” She’d just had his cock in her mouth and yet somehow him saying ‘orally pleasuring’ still made her blush. “But that’s different.”

“No, it isn’t.” He shook his head firmly. “Whatever consenting adults e-enjoy in their bedroom is their own business.” He leaned close, then, and kissed her warmly. “I’ve told you before that being curious with me, or a-about me, or what have you, is totally normal… even, encouraged.” He smiled against her lips for a moment at that, and then added, “And liking some things over others is _expected_.”

“Weren’t expecting that though, were ya?” She said smugly, and he chuckled lightly, collapsing back onto his back with a heaving breath.

“Not quite.” He admitted. “I know you mentioned it once before, but I haven’t been… well, I didn’t want to press.”

“You were looking forward to it,” She knew that he had been since the moment she’d asked him about it.

“I was,” He admitted, turning his head to meet her eyes again. “Of course.” He added softly. Then his gaze grew almost searching, and he said, “I didn’t want to make you feel o-obligated or nervous, that you thought once you brought it up then you’d _have_ to follow through.”

“I did it ‘cause I wanted to,” She assured him, and he looked relieved, and then inordinately pleased again. She shifted closer against his side, the two of them kissing one more time before snuggling up together to fall back asleep, letting the morning quietly drift on.

**... ... ...**

Buffy half-awoke, realizing that she was now on her stomach, and Giles was stretched over her back, his hips nestled between her knees and his head pillowed on her back. Buffy wriggled until he mumbled a consternated noise, but he didn’t otherwise budge.

“What’s wrong with your side of the bed?” Buffy grumbled, undecided whether or not her breathing heat blanket was a good thing or not.

“Nothing…” He mumbled, sliding his cheek in a slow nuzzle between her shoulder blades. He shifted one of his hands up to rest his fingers in her hair, gently rubbing her scalp. Buffy smiled and let out a happy purring sound, letting sleep overtake her once more. There was no reason to get out of bed yet, and she decided that Giles-blanket equals good.

But when summer kicked in for real, they were going to need to have a talk about his aggressive cuddling.

**... ... ...**

When she came-to again, she was lying face-up and Giles was hidden beneath the bed sheet, sliding his warm mouth across her ribcage. She snickered for a moment when he reached a sensitive spot, and he paused, knowing that she was now awake. She felt him smile against her skin, and she flipped the sheet off so she could show him her bemused look.

He lifted his head to grin up at her, and then shifted lower, guiding her legs over his shoulders.

“Oh, boy,” Buffy hummed almost nervously as he settled on his tummy. _Again?_

Without pause he leaned in and gave her a hot, open-mouthed kiss, following it with a long lick of his tongue.

“ _Oh_!” Buffy blurted in surprise, somewhat amazed that she still had the energy to get turned on again. “… _Boy_.” She moaned and tilted her head back, carding her fingers through his hair.

**... ... ...**

It was early evening by the time Giles got dressed and moving about for anything more than snacks and tea. Buffy claimed a need to stop by the dorm before braving a conversation with her mother at the house, and insisted on doing so alone, hoping that perhaps if her mother _was_ angry about anything, Giles wouldn’t receive the brunt of any of it.

“Will you be back tonight?” He grabbed her waist before she could reach the door, holding her against him for a moment longer. He liked having her around for more than just Slayer-related things… When she was here, his home felt more like _home_. The scent of her hair on the furniture, her shoes by the door, even her neglected dirty glass left by the sink.

“I _do_ have another final to finish up tomorrow, Giles, plus Willow and I need to move out of the dorm after,” Buffy reminded him gently, but with amusement in her eyes. “I would think you need a good _sleep_ tonight, after all that… exercise, last night. And today.”

“I do mean sleeping,” He insisted, mostly truthfully, putting on an innocent expression, and Buffy’s smile widened before she rose up on her toes and gave him a short peck on the mouth.

He was still feeling quite deliriously sated both emotionally and physically after the day he’d spent with her, but even still the brush of her mouth warmed him to his toes. He wrapped his arms a little more firmly around her, and kissed her as if they would be parted for weeks.

“Mmm- ugh, _Giles_ ,” Buffy laughed as she pried herself away from him, sliding her hand down his arm before she put some space between them. “I’ll see you later, ‘kay?” She gave him a warm, loving look, and he smiled softly and nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets to resist the temptation of holding her again.

“Give me a call, if you patrol?” He requested.

“Depending on how the talk with Mom goes, I might be calling you either way.” She admitted, her expression going a little more grave as she became nervous again.

“Just… answer the questions she asks.” He told her. “Don’t offer her anything… extra.”

“Relax,” Buffy snorted, “It’s not like I’m gonna tell her what a stevedore in bed you are.”

He blinked, startled, and she smirked and winked at him as she opened the front door.

“That college lit class is really coming in handy, huh!” She quipped, flouncing out the door and pulling it shut behind her before he could think of a response.

A minute later, he still wasn’t sure which idea to focus his attention on more - the fact that she was using poetry references in general, or that she understood the meaning of the word enough to want to apply it to _him_ … then, he grinned to himself.

“Still got it, old boy,” He murmured proudly to himself, moving into the kitchen to prepare a fresh pot of tea and see about his supper.

**... ... ...**

He was carrying his tea tray to the living room when there was a knock on his door. Briefly unsure about who it would be at this hour that would knock, Giles was a bit miffed that his reading had been interrupted before he had even started.

Then he was immediately filled with dread that it could possibly be Joyce, and he silently groaned as he paused at his desk, not quite reaching for the door yet. He took a breath, and reminded himself that Buffy hadn’t been gone long enough for that conversation to have happened, not unless Joyce had left in the middle of it…

Which could actually also be an option.

The knock sounded again, and Giles mentally girded himself as he strode forward and opened the door as casually as he could muster.

And tried not to deflate when he saw that Buffy’s mother was indeed standing on his front stoop.

“Hello, Mr. Gile- er, Rupert.” Joyce greeted him, smiling almost a bit nervously. “I’m sorry for the hour, but… I’d like to have a talk with you, and I’d rather do it without Buffy around.” Her gaze darted over his shoulder for a moment, as if she only now considered the need to ask, “Is she here?”

“You haven’t seen her?” He wondered with surprise, as he stepped to the side to silently offer her entrance to his home. She nodded her thanks and stepped in, lingering near his desk as she fiddled with her car keys in her hands.

“Not today… was I supposed to?” Her brow furrowed in concern. “Has she gone out on patrol? Is she missing?”

“No, no,” Giles soothed, as he closed the door again, “I only ask because she left not long ago, meaning to speak with you. She mentioned stopping by the dormitory first, so you may have just missed her.”

“Ah,” She relaxed significantly. “That’s alright, then. I’ve left a note… hopefully she’ll just wait for me at home.”

Giles suspected otherwise - if Buffy had the chance to avoid any uncomfortable conversations with her mother, she would take every one - but he said nothing.

They both stood awkwardly for a moment, neither sure what to say next, before Giles remembered his manners. Thank God for social graces.

“I apologize - would you care for some tea? I’ve just made some; the water is still hot.”

“Yes, thank you,” She smiled tentatively, and he gestured her toward the couch as he went to the kitchen to get another cup for her. “Did Buffy stop by after her classes today?” Her question seemed innocent, just a conversation starter, but Giles winced anyway.

He couldn’t help but recall the eager touch of Buffy’s hands and the warmth of her mouth around him, and hoped to God that his skin wasn’t flushed with the memory.

“Er, no,” He admitted carefully as he joined Joyce in the living room, “She’s in the midst of her finals, and happened to have today free.”

“Ah,” Joyce smiled a bit wistfully, and he hesitantly relaxed as he sat on the edge of the chair across from her, and poured tea in both their cups. “I’ll be happy to have her back home for the summer… I thought I would enjoy having the house to myself, but the quiet is almost unnerving!”

Giles smiled a bit in understanding at that, before setting her tea on the coffee table near her and then mixing some cream into his own. The clinking of their dishware did not make this next silence any less awkward than the first, but it did make it slightly more bearable, and Giles took a long sip from his cup before he inwardly sighed and straightened his shoulders.

“I imagine you’re here in regards to Ethan,” He opened the conversation, and Joyce waited a beat before slowly nodding.

“I know that you love my daughter, I know that hasn’t changed… but the things that man said… I need to know, Rupert. How much of it is true?”

“Was true.” He corrected softly.

“Pardon?” She didn’t follow.

“ _Was_ true.” Giles repeated, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “That was my past, Joyce - distant past, even. But I’m afraid the majority of what Ethan had mentioned _was_ true, at that time in my life.”

Joyce looked shocked, appalled, and then incredulous.

“I do love your daughter.” He assured her. “Very dearly, with all of my heart. I would never- …I’m not that young man, anymore. Surely you know that I’m not… just using her, in some fashion.”

“Of course not,” Joyce insisted, though her voice was still a bit hesitant. “I still remember what you said last summer.” For a moment, they shared a small smile, but then Joyce frowned thoughtfully. “But you… you’ve always wanted a Slayer?” Giles knew that to be a quote from Ethan, and not an innocent one.

“No,” Giles shook his head, answering honestly. “I haven’t. In fact, there was a period in my life where I absolutely abhorred the idea. Watcher’s are trained that it is… supposed to be a great honor to be assigned to the active Slayer, and that feeling does become instilled the longer time one spends in the Council. To be honest however, my particular assignment to Buffy was not- er, well,”

He paused for a long moment, and Joyce quietly waited for him to finish. Instead, he began to tell her a shortened version of the full story,

“In my earliest years in training, I worked with a group of other young trainees. I had already met Ethan and we were friends at this time, though I wouldn’t say very close. We had a group we liked to run around with, get into a little trouble, nothing too serious… until rather inevitably I suppose, it became more serious.”

He sighed, knowing that she could easily see the pained look in his eyes and deciding not to hide it from her. Perhaps it would be more proof for her of his sincerity.

“One of my fellow Watchers-in-training was attacked, killed, by a demon that Ethan’s gang had happened to summon earlier in the week. She was… brutally killed. She was also… my first love.”

“Oh.” Joyce murmured sympathetically.

“Suffice to say, I did not handle it well.” Giles tried to push aside those specific memories, not wanting to show _too_ much emotion right now. “And the Council did not handle it well, either. They more or less brushed the whole ordeal under the rug, and I rebelled against them.” He let out a tired breath and said, “Ethan took advantage of my anger, and enticed me to join his group. And after I joined, our, erm, _antics_ became quite a bit more serious.”

“Home burglaries?” Joyce figured uncomfortably, and Giles nodded.

“Along with car theft,” He added. “Among other things of the more… supernatural nature.” He did _not_ want to get into the subject of demon-raising, with Buffy’s mother. Everything else was bad enough. “Ethan was right, in the sense that I became the… front man. I scoped out the homes, the families, and I made the proper connections to get us inside…”

“Including sleeping with random women?” She looked at him askance, as if she couldn’t connect the man in front of her with that idea. A part of him was pleased by that - that he’d come so far from his past that it was hard for the people that knew him now to imagine.

“I was quite self-destructive,” He told her softly, “in more ways than one. Proper relationships didn’t matter to me. I drank far too much, smoked too much, I was flippant with magics…”

“Magics?” Joyce repeated. “Like the little spells Willow does?”

She’d seen Willow a few times, showing Buffy how she could float things in the air without even touching them. She didn’t know the seriousness of it all, however, nor that Willow was actively in communication with a coven or that Giles was helping guide her.

“After everything that’s happened in this town and everything I know, that’s still so hard to believe…” She slowly shook her head side to side, and Giles gave her a rueful, understanding smile.

“Not at all like the spells Willow does.” Giles admitted, and Joyce’s eyes widened just slightly at his tone. “I would rather not go into detail about them, but they were powerful, and they were dark, and they were very dangerous.” He paused for another beat, and finished his earlier admittance, “My assignment to Buffy was not a _gift_ , in the Council’s eyes, or one given with honor. They were hoping… well, after what had happened to her first Watcher, and the fact the Council had known little to nothing about Buffy to start with… they were hoping I would learn my lesson.” He knew his tone was dry and hard, now, but he couldn’t help that. The idea _still_ pissed him off, if he thought about it too much. “One way or another.”

Joyce frowned deeply in concern for a moment, but didn’t say anything immediately.

“And… Buffy knows all of this about you?” She eventually wondered carefully, and Giles nodded.

“She does. Some of it she actually learned a few years ago. Ethan has been to Sunnydale before, even before the band candy incident, and he had riled up some old ghosts that I had desperately tried to keep hidden from the others…”

“Ghosts?” Joyce repeated worriedly, and he shook his head a little.

“Metaphorically, in this instance.” He clarified, and she relaxed slightly, but her brow was still furrowed at his serious tone. “She was so frightened… and worried…” Giles could remember the way Buffy had stared at him in such concern, kneeling next to him on the floor in his flat, her hand comforting on his knee.

_“Don’t be sorry, be Giles.”_

He didn’t realize that he was smiling a little to himself, until he noticed Joyce’s curious tilt of her head.

“I opened up to Buffy about something that I hadn’t talked about aloud in decades, and she didn’t disown me, she didn’t even run away.” He explained, his appreciation and love slipping out in the tone of his voice. “She accepted me and those shadows and broken pieces of my past… just as she accepted the rest of the truth, once I was comfortable enough to tell her, this past year.”

“She’s… honestly always had a forgiving soul,” Joyce murmured softly, her own voice going fond as well. “Not sure where she gets it from,” She then chuckled wryly, “Certainly not her father or I.” Joyce pressed her lips together apologetically as she met Giles’ eyes again, adding ruefully, “I know we’re both aware that I can have a short temper.”

The summer Buffy had run off to L.A. came to his mind, and he briefly gave her a short, understanding smile.

“So she’s really okay with you…” Joyce hesitated. “You having been… I mean, past relationships are one thing, Rupert, but random women? For the sole purpose of stealing from them? Do you even know how many? Do you even know their own - I mean, I can’t imagine you were thinking of _safety_ if you really were in that frame of mind back then,” She was starting to become more accusatory, more motherly, and incredulous. Which Giles understood.

“I don’t know how many.” He admitted, feeling like a cad as he said it. “But I do know, miraculously - by the hand of God, or the Powers that Be, or any grand entity you could name - that I was not permanently affected by my recklessness as a young man.”

Aside from the near-constant, buried, temptation for dark magic - again, not something he would be mentioning to Joyce. Some things simply remained between himself and Buffy, alone. He wished _this_ did, as well, but he supposed it was par for the course considering how special his relationship with Buffy was. There really was no kind of precedent that he could think of. They were all learning how to handle things as they went along.

“My health is clean, and I again made sure of that the moment I suspected that- well,” He paused suddenly, flushing a little, and Joyce looked a bit defeated.

“So you _are_ sleeping together, then.”

“We take precautions.” He assured her gently, assuming that she was concerned about Buffy becoming pregnant too early in her life. Then, he felt the need to add, “And I am faithful. There is not… I’m not sure if I can explain it adequately.” He took his glasses off, only because he was about to say something quite emotionally revealing and he was too shy to have to see Joyce’s face as he did so. “There _is_ no one else. There will never be anyone else. Buffy is all- all that I see, all that I want, all… she might as well be the only woman in the world. Because when it comes to- to romance, and t-to temptation, it’s… it’s all Buffy.”

“Temptation,” Joyce repeated, her voice difficult to read, and Giles knew he was blushing but he tucked his glasses back on so he could gauge her expression and whether or not he had to prepare himself for some accusations. “That man - Ethan - he…” She wavered. “He suggested that you and Buffy…” She grimaced, seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then shook her head. “That you were _more intimate_ … when you shouldn’t have been. _Where_ you shouldn’t have been.” She sighed heavily then, and asked him outright, “ _Did_ you have sex with her, before? In the library?”

He felt his eyes slowly widen in surprise, even as he did his best not to think of any of his fantasies about doing exactly that.

“N-n-no,” He assured her, immediately removing his glasses again and this time retrieving the handkerchief from his pocket to rub the lenses clean. “We did not.” He managed to say more clearly, earnestly, although he still couldn’t meet her gaze again. “I- I tried to have her focus on university, for a while. We- I, well… I struggled for much longer than she did, on when- when we… well… we would…” He trailed off, grimacing.

This entire conversation was _horrifically_ uncomfortable, and only getting worse.

“Sleep together?” Joyce supplied dryly, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the heat in his blushing cheeks grow stronger.

“We- we did wait,” He said when he could manage to speak again. “Whatever Ethan may have suggested, or implied, when it comes to Buffy and I… he doesn’t have a bloody clue.”

Giles’ frustration at Ethan showed through, for a moment, and Joyce paused for a beat to let that moment pass.

“For how long?” She asked, and he opened his eyes to face her directly, beginning to frown now.

“Do you want a time and date?” He asked a bit incredulously, his tone stronger now that he was growing miffed. Joyce’s daughter or not, this was now veering directly into territory that was private in one’s bedroom. Metaphorically, considering it didn’t always stay exactly within the confines of the bedroom… Giles forcefully kept his mind focused on the present.

Joyce was the one to flush a little then, at his words, and she winced as she shook her head again.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s- no,” She chuckled half-heartedly, and sighed. “It’s just, some of the things Ethan had said, about spying on the two of you, the things he said he’d seen…” She was the one avoiding his eyes now, and looked as if she’d eaten something sour. “He made himself sound quite believable.”

Giles inwardly groaned as he counted to five in his head before he replied to her.

“He’s always had that gift.” He said wryly, and then told her, “As far as I know, Ethan _was not_ actually spying on me, and even if he was - what Buffy and I do in training, when it comes to her as the Slayer, and I as her Watcher - that will never be compromised. We- we have rules,” He admitted this part with a bit of embarrassment again, but powered through, “And training time is exactly that - for training. It has never been taken advantage of.” He chose not to mention the few times it might’ve _ended early_ , however, to be replaced by more fun physical activities…

After all, Buffy _was_ his ultimate temptation, and both fortunately and unfortunately, she was well aware of it.

“At least you two were honest with me last summer, about dating.” Joyce almost seemed to be talking to herself. “You know, I didn't even know she was _dating_ Angel when they-” She stopped, and glanced toward him apologetically. “Well, before all the… drama. …I _know_ you care about her, Rupert, but she’s my daughter. I just want to make sure that she’s… making the best decisions for herself.”

“I’m not Angel.” Giles told her, his tone carefully level, doing his best not to take her motherly concern personally. “I won’t turn into some cursed demon.”

“Men don’t have to be demons to change after they get what they want,” Joyce pointed out very softly, but he narrowed his eyes anyway.

“Buffy is not just _‘something I want’_ , and I’m certainly not with her just for the physical aspects of our relationship.” He said tersely. “I have never once considered our relationship lightly - I am her Watcher, and I am always to be her Watcher, no matter what. Choosing to become more than that was a serious decision, arguably the most serious decision I’ve made in my life… aside from returning to the Council when I was young.” That choice had ultimately led him to Buffy, and because of that he would forever think of it as _the_ smartest choice he’s ever made.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Joyce laughed lightly, without humor. “I’m afraid I was thinking a bit too much of my own relationship, with Buffy’s father, for a moment.” She gave Giles a rueful look, and he softened. “He does love Buffy, but he never loved what being a father, being a husband, _meant_. He’s not much for settling down, and when I stopped going on all the vacations and to all the parties… I believe that was when he first grew to resent me.”

“I’m sorry.” Giles murmured, for her situation, and she shook her head lightly.

“Hank and I weren’t meant to be, but I don’t let that weigh me down now - and I shouldn’t let it color my perspective for other people’s relationships.” She replied.

He felt that he needed to assure Joyce of one more thing, and took a moment to figure out how to say it in the least uncomfortable way possible.

“My care for Buffy… extends to, er, all areas of our relationship.” He haltingly began. “When it comes to… caring for her, I don’t…” He winced as he tried again, “I follow Buffy’s guidance, when it comes to… what she’s comfortable with.”

Joyce nodded once in realization, understanding what he was getting at, and actually looking quite a bit more relieved now than she had for the entire conversation thus far. Giles let out a breath, amazed at himself for being able to say that out loud to _her mother_. But he did understand the concern, due to his colorful past, his age, and his inherent experience. She just wanted to make sure her daughter was happy and respected on all fronts.

“And you?” Joyce asked, startling him again, enough that if he’d been drinking tea he’d likely have choked.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you comfortable? Happy? Content?”

“More than.” He answered softly, and reiterated, “As I said before, there is no one else but her.”

Joyce nodded, satisfied by the sincerity in his eyes, and then gave him a gentle smile.

“I suspect had we not had our heart-to-heart last summer, this would not have been as easy,”

“This was easy?” He grumbled under his breath, and she laughed softly.

“It was very difficult for me to associate that Rupert I spoke with in my kitchen with the one that Mr. Rayne had proposed. But I needed to be sure.” Her smile wavered only for a moment, as she tilted her head a little at him again. “Honestly, it’s still hard for me to believe that some of it _was true_.”

“Thank you.” He murmured, taking that for the compliment that it was.

Her head still cocked to the side, Joyce gave him a long appraising look until he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and considered getting up to offer her fresh tea - and give himself something to do.

“May I?” She requested suddenly, gesturing toward him, and he froze in confusion.

“Hm?”

She stood, and gestured to him to stand as well, which he did so hesitantly. She pointed at his chest, and then stepped only close enough that she could touch his shoulder. He held his head a bit stiffly, darting his gaze across her face in confusion, but she had a contemplative furrow on her brow as she gingerly tucked her finger beneath his collar without touching his skin, and pulled it away from his neck.

The tiny little revealed patch of skin made him feel suddenly cold, and naked, and he felt himself flushing with embarrassment again. He had no idea what she was doing, but eventually she made a sighing noise under her breath and released his collar, stepping further back again.

“Your old friend _was_ right about a few things, wasn’t he.” She mused, still quite contemplative, and as Giles stared at her in bewilderment, he caught the way her eyes glittered with amusement before she turned and strode toward his door. “If you do see Buffy again before I do, would you mind reminding her that I’m leaving for a short work trip next week? I’ll see you later, Rupert.” She offered him an earnest smile in goodbye before slipping out the door, and he blinked at it, still just as bewildered.

He shifted his shoulder, resettling his collar as he went to the kitchen to make himself some more tea. He still hadn’t started supper yet, either, and he was feeling famished by this point.

He was just pouring his fresh brew into a mug when his door opened again, and at Buffy’s cheery greeting he pulled another mug from the cabinet for her.

“Tea?” He offered as she skipped her way into the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why she was back again so soon, but she wouldn’t hear him fuss about it.

“God, no - too hot for tea!” She complained as she opened the refrigerator door. “Got any juice?”

“Check behind the milk,” He smiled a little at her predictability, and exchanged the mug for a glass. “Your mum was here,” He decided not to beat around the bush, and glanced over to find her staring at him with wide eyes as the fridge door closed. He pretended nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened, and took the carton from her to pour her juice himself. “We had a chat, as you suspected she might want,”

“Oh, _God_ ,” She moaned, opening the fridge again to take the carton back from him and exchange it for the milk, passing that to him so he could add it to his tea.

“I… survived,” He pointed out a little defensively. “She didn’t even hit me.”

“She _didn’t_?” Buffy raised her eyebrow in surprise, and then her eyes shifted slightly and she snorted in surprise. He quirked his own eyebrow at her, and she stepped closer to grab the collar of his shirt, the same side Joyce had touched. “You talked to my mom with _this_ neon sign?! She didn’t hit _you_ ‘cause she’s gonna _kill me_.”

“What are you talking about?” He huffed, brushing her hand from him as he closed up the milk carton and pressed it into her hands again.

She snorted yet again, and gave him a wry look as she put the milk back.

“Go check the bathroom mirror, lover.” She bit her lower lip and then giggled, and Giles frowned at her, thinking she was just being silly.

He also had to do his best not to beam like a besotted moron at her pet-name.

Still, he shuffled down the hall anyway; the picture of Joyce’s mildly amused smirk still vivid in his mind. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and tugged his collar away from his neck, leaning his head to the side to check the reflection in the mirror, and then was immediately filled with cold dread.

“Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, and could hear Buffy’s soft laughter from the kitchen.

He hadn’t even noticed earlier, whilst getting dressed, the deeply reddened bruise on the curve of his throat. Part of it was visible above his shirt even when he rebuttoned it, and he found himself blushing yet again as he closed his eyes and groaned.

_“He said something about you, uh, having a way with the ladies.”_ Buffy’s voice, retelling about that night in detail, sounded in his memory. _“How you make ‘em think about their deepest fantasies? How you give ‘em the courage to act on them? Which, ha, let me tell you - he’s not wrong there. You make me wanna do_ **_all kinds_ ** _of things to you…”_

Well, that explained the amused look from Joyce - but Giles wasn’t sure how he felt about being on the receiving end of it.

“You gonna hide in there ‘til your tea goes cold?” Buffy called out, teasing.

  
  
“Perhaps!” He returned, gritting his teeth in consternation as he stared at his reflection and brushed his hand against the back of his hair.

“Still embarrassed?” She questioned, her voice closer as she appeared in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, her glass in hand.

“She asked me about our _sex life_ , Buffy,” Giles complained, and now she was frowning in dismay.

“ _Details_?” She exclaimed, and he shook his head.

“Well, no, but… she wanted to make sure you were, um, not being taken advantage of.” He amended and clarified, not wanting to accidentally get Buffy pissed off at her mother.

“Oh…” She considered that, and then actually looked touched for a moment. Then, she met his eyes in the mirrored reflection and smirked. “Looks like _I’m_ the one doing the advantage taking,” She said smugly, her eyes lowering to his neck for a moment before she took a drink from her glass and flounced back down the hall. “I need to call her; guess she was still here when I went by the house earlier.”

Giles blushed again, and rolled his eyes at his reflection before squaring his shoulders and following her out. He wasn’t a _schoolboy_ , and he hadn’t actually been chastised about anything… he needed to stop getting so embarrassed about everything.

Especially when a part of him was quite pleased that Buffy was so proud of her handiwork.

She was still grinning smugly when he rejoined her in the kitchen, and he reached for the glass in her hand instead of his tea, setting it on the counter so that he could lift her up onto the bartop, bury his face against her neck, and return the favor.

Dinner could wait a few minutes longer.


End file.
